Hello Fellow Families of Ridiculously Attractive Children who happen to have been identified with Cortical Visual Impairment!

I have thought about writing a post for so long. There’s so much to say and so little time to get it right. I judge myself and it doesn’t get done. We are in a time of transition. I keep turning inwards into myself and asking the same questions without new answers. There is a familiar feeling of despair nagging at me.

I woke up this morning with an idea in my head. I am going to stop judging myself and get it out there.

I may need some serious help here. I will get to that eventually.

I spoke to my aunt yesterday and I found myself repeating my mom’s favorite saying, “I always do things the hard way.” I used to roll my eyes when she said that.

Now, I have come to understand that when you have a child who is one in a million (quite literally) the hard way is often the ONLY way because you are breaking new ground and learning as you go.

But, not always. My mom could have asked for help more often. The results may have pleasantly surprised her.

The most important lesson Eliza has taught me is that asking for help can bring you information and support you never thought possible. And, if it doesn’t, no harm done. I’m used to doing it the hard way.

—————————————————

Two months ago, we up and moved. (“Up and moved” is a particularly Southern phrase that implies doing something quickly. Which is true.)

Our family’s life circumstances had shifted significantly. My older daughter was about to start high school. There was nothing keeping us in the state of Virginia. I had been taking Eliza out of school half days to do private ABA therapies for various reasons.

I could not sustain the schedule of creating and maintaining an educational and behavioral program for her. It was more than one person could do. I didn’t feel particularly successful at it.

I am used to this feeling – the need to find someone who understands her better than I do. Who knows HOW to teach her to communicate and to engage more with the world. I am used to fighting battles and asking for more than IEP teams think is necessary.

In this instance, I needed to choose my battles and look at the big picture.

Eliza turned 12 this summer.

We needed to think about what we want her life to look like at 22 when she ages out of the school system.

We started entertaining where we would go if we could go anywhere. Eliza would need to be in a state with good educational opportunities, a strong support network and good transition services for when she becomes an adult. My older daughter should be able to start and stay in the same high school. My husband and I would figure out how to make this work. That’s what parents do.

So, we jumped, er, moved. From Virginia to a state that rhymes with Smassachusetts.

Two months ago.

My husband, my older daughter and I packed and carried our house out the front door and into two Pods. We made the trip to Smassachusetts and back to Virginia several times in two weeks. It is not an exaggeration to say there was a little blood, so much sweat, a few tears, and a recurrence of carpal tunnel syndrome. We went through several bottles of Aleve.

It has been intense. Some days I HATE our stuff. Who needs more than 2 towels? Why do we have so many socks? ONE pair of shoes should suffice, people! One pan, one lid. One fork, one spoon, one plate. Throw the rest away! (I get that this is a 1st World Problem. I do. Forgive me. Just had to vent a little.)

And, the files – the medical records and educational records from a decade plus.

It’s necessary to decide where to keep them for quick reference. There is so much information – maybe I should let some of it go,

but,

there are still many questions with respect to what makes Eliza Eliza.

Maybe the answer is in one of the reports and science just hasn’t caught up to her yet.

Maybe someday SOMEONE will be able to help me understand what we’ve lived from a medical perspective.

For that, I keep the records, in bags by the bed for now…like the master of domestic organization I am.

We continue to dig out from boxes and piles of laundry.

It has NOT been an ideal environment for a child with CVI.

NOT a great environment for a child with Cortical Visual Impairment

The first few days she was most content sitting in the laundry room clinging to my legs. It made sense. The room is small. Everything is off white – a clean visual palette. The vibration of the dryer was comforting. I sat on the floor with her several times those first few days commiserating with her that we had found the only spot in this new place that didn’t look like a tornado had hit.

Looking at the piles of boxes and clothes and furniture exhausted and irritated me. I couldn’t exactly understand how frustrating it was for her, however, the way she clung to me like a drowning person, gave me a good idea.

We made her and her sister’s rooms the first priority to give them a place of respite from the craziness of a move. She is laying in her room listening to music right now. And, now she’s shuffling down the hall.

I will pick this thread up again soon. I would like to tell you what is going on and to see if you have any insight.

From my spot on the distant periphery, I see CVI moms shaking up the status quo and creating real change in their local education and support systems.

It occurred to me this morning that I am not alone anymore.

Until I can share more, I (the master of domestic organization that I am) have a handy dandy tip for families who have just moved.

When you move to a house without a single curtain or window shade and you are in a pinch….

Quick and easy window treatment for families who up and move!

….Halloween decorations make GREAT window treatments! And, in August, they are ALMOST holiday appropriate!

Hello Fellow Families of Glorious Children who Happen to Have Cortical Visual Impairment!

One year ago today, I published the first post of CVI Momifesto as a way to vent and to gain perspective of my experience as the mother of funny, strong willed, curious girl who happens to have several diagnoses and who also happens to be cuteness personified.

It’s been quite a year.

I wanted to comment on the year in this post.

But, as happens with life and especially with life with a kid with special needs, a lot happened over the summer. There hasn’t been much time to process or to have a coherent string of thoughts.

I started to write a post about the year and the summer.

This is what I wrote instead:

Over the past 3 months, my girl, Eliza, has turned 12 and graduated from elementary school. She wore the same dress her sister wore when she was 12. She enjoyed being a part of the ceremony, grinning from ear to ear as she walked by all of the kids dressed up in their fancy graduation clothes. She laughed with her teacher. She danced with her dad after the festivities.

This kid.

This kid came into the world defying odds given to us by doctors in starched white coats.

This kid turned 12.

There was so much drama around her birth.

The Doctor.

In the whitest coat I’d ever seen,

with the beard trimmed so precisely

I sometimes wondered if it was fake.

The doctor observed us,

the anxious couple

husband and very pregnant wife

from behind the safety of the desk of polished dark wood.

On the wall,

framed diplomas and plaques attested to the

depth and breadth

of his

infinite

knowledge.

On a shelf to my right, a book caught my eye.

“How to Give Bad News.”

(It’s interesting the things you remember at a time like that.)

It was a very serious moment from a very solemn doctor in a very white coat. The moment demanded a lot of “verys”.

Everything was “VERY” in screaming capital letters.

The Doctor told us she would never

walktalkbreatheswallowseehearspeak

It all became one long horrible word to my grasping, uncomprehending brain.

Basically, you name it.

She wouldn’t do it.

As a matter of fact, she would probably never leave the NICU. She would have no quality of life…..medicallyobligatedtoadvisetermination….

He really needs to reread that book. He sucks at this. VERY.

It’s interesting the things you think at a time like that.

Then,

I kid you not,

Eliza – who had not been much of a mover or a shaker in utero – did a full on somersault as if to remind me just who we were talking about here.

The sudden shift in my body

the VERYEST

literal

punch

in the gut.

—————————————

The Doctor,

VERY knowledgeable about many things

the rectangles on walls behind him told me so,

had many other things to say after that.

But, I couldn’t hear them.

Because Eliza had reminded me that she had not been given her say in the matter.

———————————————-

We didn’t listen to The Doctor much after that.

———————————————

She arrived VERY quickly,

about a month later,

on her own terms,

without the horror story he had predicted.

The doctor called me in the recovery room later that morning.

“What gives?” he said curtly.

None of the customary pleasantries you might expect to give someone who has just given birth.

I explained that she hadn’t needed all of the medical interventions he had predicted. No NICU.

A pause.

Then, he said, not a little smugly,

“Well, let’s see her when she’s 5.”

See that? See what he did there?

“Let’s see her when she’s 5.”

What The Doctor could not know – what I could not know – was that that phrase launched my journey with this kid.

That smugness

that assumption

that five years would prove what a mistake we had made.

The cold clinical certainty that her life would not have value.

And that it was

his

decision to make

Sparked a fire in me that exists today.

When she did turn 5, I thought a lot about taking Eliza to see The Doctor again.

I thought a lot about it.

I entertained many a revenge fantasy about it, to be honest.

Some vandalism may have been very entertaining in a couple of the fantasies, but I’ll just leave that there.

She was keeping me pretty busy at the time.

I ultimately realized

If I did take her to see him,

because she is built a bit differently than your average kid

(whatever THAT means)

He could look at her

and feel completely vindicated.

I,

looking at the same girl,

knowing her the way I do,

would happily introduce him to her in all of her unique Elizaness,

(Maybe I’d even hire a mariachi band to accompany us to his office for an introduction? Fireworks and a pony for everyone? Too much?)

and feel completely vindicated.

And, there you have it.

Our impasse.

Proving him wrong was not the way to go about this.

There was nothing to prove.

We have a life to live.

I live with a beautiful, challenging mystery of a kid who has screwed up my sleep for the past 12 years. I’m still trying to figure her out. Sometimes I lose my patience. Sometimes she loses hers. She pats my arm and pulls me close for kisses. She loves her people. She is intensely curious about the world. Nothing thrills her more than holding hands and running with one of us in an open field.

I am embarrassed to say that I have only recently – too recently – figured out that she understands more than I gave her credit for.

She loves me in spite of my imperfections. She accepts me for who I am.

We remain a work in progress.

So, a year ago today, I started a blog to get some of these stories off of my heart and out of my head.

There is work to be done, yes. But, we have nothing to prove.

Holy cheese! I just wrote about Eliza’s birth on Labor Day! I just got that! And, it’s 3 a.m. so I’m keeping this ridiculous exclamation right here! Huzzah and so forth!

Hello fellow families of magnificent children who have been identified with Cortical Visual Impairment!

Long time, no blog post!

So, after the success of the American Conference on Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment, I decided to dial it down a bit and spend some time with my family. And, learn to play the ukelele, and run 3 miles every other day, and binge watch Fargo.

In July, a CVI mom friend of mine reminded me that Eliza’s older sister, AC, needs as much time and attention as I devote to E and her special needs.

AC’s life looks a lot like this a fair amount of the time.

Or this….

Upper: Two girls in a rope door swing. One girl is asleep on top of the other. The girl on the bottom is smiling and holding a book. Lower: Two girls smiling and wrestling. The younger girl is laying on top of the older girl who is grinning good naturedly at being squished.

AC is as kind as she is clever and funny. Sometimes I need to be reminded that this kid needs her time too and I have to extract her from Eliza’s bear hug.

And, she starts high school in a couple of weeks.

WHEN DID SHE

GET OLD ENOUGH TO GO HIGH SCHOOL?

Who is responsible for this? I want to lodge a complaint.

Excuse me, I have to go hug the stuffing out of her….

Okay, I’m back.

So, I adjusted my to-do list. I spent as much time with the teenager for as she would allow and I watched Fargo. Success!

I hope you had some fun this summer. I hope you had the chance to spend time with your favorite people.

Did anything interesting happen while I was gone or rather lurking in the background reading stuff and taking mental notes for the future?

Well, yes, yes it did.

Something interesting and rather unusual DID happen this summer as an attempt to affect the education of children with vision loss, and specifically Cortical Visual Impairment.

This summer, during the International Conference for the Association for the Education and Rehabilitation of the Blind and Visually Impaired (AER) in Reno, Nevada, a resolution which included very specific language about the CVI Range was put forth, voted on, and passed by the attending members.

You need to be aware of this resolution.

AER and the authors of this resolution are making a statement about the work of Dr. Christine Roman-Lantzy, the CVI Range, and the recent attempts of parents to advocate for the appropriate education of children with Cortical Visual Impairment.

I have a few comments on this resolution, however, I thought it best to first ask for comment from Dr. Sandra Newcomb, from Connections Beyond Sight and Sound at the University of Maryland. Dr. Newcomb’s research, published in the Journal of Visual Impairment and Blindness in 2010, validated the CVI Range.

Dr. Sandy read the resolution and added comments. She very graciously allowed me to post her comments with the resolutions. Most of her comments are in blue. Emphasis is mine. When I got really emphatic I posted her comments in BOLD RED.

Proposed Resolution of the Association for Education and Rehabilitation of the Blind and Visually Impaired: July 2018Assessment, Services, and Personnel Preparation to Support Students with CVI and their FamiliesResolution Number 2018-001Authors: Yvette Blitzer, Kathryn Botsford, Olaya Landa-Vialard, Sandra Lewis, Mark Richert, and Ye-Ting Siu
Whereas to receive a truly free and appropriate public education under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA), all children and youth with visual impairment, including those who may have additional disabilities, should be properly evaluated by teachers of students with visual impairments (TVIs) who are equipped with and use multiple assessment tools to determine such students’ individual sensory channels, functional vision, and learning media needs;
Whereas these types of evaluations are especially critical for the large and growing population of students who experience neurological visual impairment (frequently otherwise known as cortical or cerebral visual impairment; hereinafter, children with CVI);
Whereas TVIs must also have access to resources and participate in professional development opportunities in order to keep up with the changes in the diagnosis and assessment of CVI and appropriate interventions to minimize its effect;
Whereas whenever possible, assessments conducted by TVIs should include (as called for in IDEA) a variety of research-based, data-driven, and validated tools and strategies to gather relevant functional, developmental, and academic information;

Whereas there are currently no assessments available to TVIs that adequately address all the possible effects of CVI and/or meet the exacting scientific standards for research-base, and validated evidence; No assessments of what? Functional vision? Academic achievement? There is an assessment that meets scientific standards for reliability and validity for assessment of functional vision. Newcomb 2010, JVIB

Whereas frameworks for functional vision and learning media assessments commonly used by TVIs today are nevertheless based upon recommended practices in the field; But “practices in field” is not defined here. There is evidence that current practices are from TVIs who have been trained using an ocular model of VI and of functional vision.There is valid research that describes the differences in ocular and cortical visual impairment. This research reveals the frameworks for ocular are not appropriate for cortical.

Whereas there are multiple assessment tools, frameworks and strategies available for use by TVIs when conducting a comprehensive assessment of the visual functioning and sensory channels of children with CVI, the use of which serve to support of IDEA’s mandate for the use of multiple assessment tools; IDEA mandates assessment of functional vision, or how the vision impairment has an educational impact. Multiple tools are used for assessment of multiple constructs (medical tools for diagnosis, curriculum specific tools for achievement, speech/language tools for communication, etc.) These are the multiple tools for getting a comprehensive picture of a child with multiple challenges.

Whereas the CVI Range by Christine Roman-Lantzy is but one assessment designed to provide information on the visual and sensory functioning of children with CVI; It is only one assessment, however, in my review of the literature (both for dissertation and ongoing review) there is no other assessment developed for assessment of functional vision for children with CVI.

Whereas a package of continuing education opportunities bundled under the Perkins-Roman CVI Range Endorsement brand, and any other continuing education opportunity, are valuable resources to teachers and others who wish to hone and test their skills in the administration of the CVI Range; To date, Perkins has the most continuing education opportunities relative to CVI and to children with multiple disabilities.

Whereas some proponents of the CVI Range and the related endorsement are seeking to have policymakers and state and local education agencies require the use of the CVI Range and to require TVIs to obtain the endorsement as a condition on such TVIs’ provision of special education to children with CVI; Who are the proponents? And why should a local system NOT require the use of the only tool that is appropriate to assess the functional vision of children with CVI?

Whereas a TVI’s failure to obtain specifically branded continuing education opportunities, even if such opportunities are marketed as an endorsement, and completion of professional training in an assessment tool alone is no indicator of a provider’s preparedness to conduct appropriate comprehensive assessment or provide appropriate special education programming to children with CVI or any other students with visual impairment; Branded? Marketed? Why is it not appropriate for a professional to demonstrate proficiency in an assessment tool that they need to use? There are no other assessments (in any domain) that teachers do not need to be trained on to administer. This is especially critical when the tool relies on the teacher’s observation skills as the primary means of gathering information. When an assessment tool relies on teacher observation, it is critical that the teacher demonstrate he/she is reliable in their observations, otherwise the scores on the assessment are not meaningful.

No assessment in any domain can guarantee that a teacher is able to adequately provide meaningful interventions; however, lack of appropriate assessment data on which to base intervention strategies will guarantee inappropriate or inconsistent interventions.

Only when you start with an appropriate assessment can you hope to design appropriate, individualized, and targeted interventions.

Whereas university teacher preparation programs are addressing the needs of children with CVI and their graduates have beginning-level competencies and skills, which can be honed through experience, mentoring, and additional professional development; I have not seen any data, no published data nor anecdotal data, that indicates that university programs are addressing the needs of children with CVI, even at a beginning level. My experience on the MD/DC deaf-blind project, my private work in VA, NJ, WV, KS, and PA, and CVI mentoring in MS and GA have shown just the opposite. Parents and teachers are not prepared to meet the needs of children with CVI. They lack information and training, even some recent graduates of vision programs.

Whereas some states allow for individuals to circumvent university preparation teacher training and permit licensure of TVIs via (a) minimal coursework or a (b) test-only credential and functionally allowing individuals without adequate training in assessment of children with ocular and/or neurological-based visual impairment, or program development to assess, plan, and deliver services to children with visual impairments including those with CVI; This should never happen, no matter what state, for any TVI. States should not allow individuals to circumvent proper training.

Whereas individuals gaining TVI licensure via a test-only modality are not prepared to assess, plan, and deliver services to students with visual impairment, including those youngsters with complex disorders, such as CVI; Agreed!

Whereas it is imperative that parents and guardians of such students with CVI have accurate, complete, and unbiased information about the professional training and qualifications possessed by TVIs today who are evaluating and developing individualized education programs (IEPs) to meet such students’ unique needs; Agreed!

Whereas knowledge about neurological visual impairment and children with CVI is evolving rapidly, and a rich body of research and related developments from around the world promises to further enlighten and change educational practice over time;

and
Whereas requiring the use of a single specific assessment today, such as the CVI Range, or the express or implied imposition of brand-specific endorsement requirements on TVIs beyond state licensure and adherence to nationally recognized TVI standards puts students at risk of being denied the most up-to-date assessments and services and needlessly locks state and local educational agencies into practices and purported credentials with a limited shelf life that do not align with federal and state law and policy; For children with CVI, who must have (IDEA) a functional vision assessment, we must insure that the assessment is appropriate for children with CVI.

The CVI Range is, at this time, the only assessment developed to accomplish this task. While it is clear AER objects to “brand-specific” endorsement, there is nothing else that can insure that our children with CVI have an appropriate functional vision assessment.

This is the only the first step in appropriate intervention, but it is a step that cannot be missed or mishandled.

What are the “nationally recognized TVI standards” that include adequate information on CVI? What is more up-to-date? The phrase “purported credentials with limited shelf life” is very inappropriate and inflammatory, and a direct attack on the extensive work done at and through Perkins. The CVI Range endorsement aligns directly with the federal and state law and policy in that a child with CVI needs an appropriate functional vision assessment.Now therefore be it resolved, that the Association for the Education and Rehabilitation of the Blind and Visually Impaired (AER):
1. encourages personnel preparation programs training new and pre-service TVIs and O&M specialists to include coursework in assessment tools, learning needs, and instructional methodologies to support the diverse needs inherent in the heterogeneous population of students with visual impairment, including those students with neurological-based vision impairment and those with additional disabilities;
2. encourages parents and teachers in all states to educate lawmakers and call for the abolition of “test-only” pathways to TVI licensure and require rigorous university preparation as the only option to gain licensure as a TVI;
3. encourages current and new TVIs to pursue continuing education and/or professional development opportunities and training to keep abreast of the ever-changing practices related to students with neurological visual impairment in order to effectively meet the unique needs of children with CVI;

4. encourages state chapters and divisions of AER to advocate for and promote the appropriate use of multiple comprehensive assessments, as mandated by IDEA, thereby honoring all students’ unique needs for appropriate and reasonable accommodations that recognize the diversity of functional vision, learning media, and literacy characteristics inherent in the heterogeneous population of students with visual impairment, including those students with neurological-based vision impairment and those with additional disabilities; while “multiple comprehensive assessments” are indeed necessary to address needs in a comprehensive way (communication, mobility, achievement, etc.), there are not, at this time multiple assessments to measure the functional vision of children with CVI.

5. urges the U.S. Congress, state legislatures, and state and local educational agencies to protect the integrity of comprehensive assessments conducted by TVIs both by rejecting calls that expressly or implicitly require the use of any single specific assessment tool or technique with specific populations of students with visual impairment and by refusing to impose specifically-branded in-service training requirements on state-licensed TVIs (prepared in accordance with nationally recognized TVI standards; Council for Exceptional Children (CEC) and Association for the Education and Rehabilitation of the Blind and Visually Impaired (AERBVI) as a precondition for providing special education to children with CVI or any other students with visual impairment; See comments above. The “integrity of comprehensive assessments” means that a TVI can use whatever measure or observation they decide.

This insures a continuation of TVIs providing inappropriate assessments for children with CVI and then basing interventions and accommodations on those inappropriate assessments. The cycle of inappropriate interventions and frustrated parents continues!

6. calls upon the U.S. Congress to promptly enact the Alice Cogswell and Anne Sullivan Macy Act, which, among other critical policy objectives, would significantly increase investment in quantitative and qualitative research, allowing our field to identify evidence-based practices in assessment and instruction for children with CVI and all other students who are blind, have low vision, are deafblind, or may have these conditions and additional disabilities;

and
7. shall disseminate this resolution online and using any other appropriate means to make it widely available to parents, TVIs, and all other stakeholders to ensure national, state and local communication of these matters.

NOTE: It is my experience that parents are pushing for The CVI Range endorsement because of the lack of professionals who understand their child and who can provide the interventions they need.

Parents are advocating for professionals that demonstrate some level of knowledge, training, and competence in CVI.

At this time, the Perkins-Roman endorsement is the only avenue they have to be sure the teacher knows something about CVI. Too many families are offered services that are inappropriate or worse, no services at all. They are given TVIs that do not understand the characteristics of CVI.

The parents are looking for some way to insure that the people who design programs for their child have some working knowledge of CVI. At this time, they cannot count on pre-service programs to adequately prepare vision teachers to address the needs of their child. They are demanding, or strongly suggesting the endorsement because, for now, that is all they have.

When university programs and national standards catch up to the current population of children with CVI, parents will have done their job of advocating and systems change, not only for their child, but for all children who have CVI.

So, how’s that for a little morning reading?

Take your time with this. Think about it. Ask questions. There is more to come.

They came! They saw! They chatted over mojitos and exchanged contact information.

The Pediatric CVI Society hosted their 6th annual conference at the Children’s Hospital and Medical Center in Omaha, Nebraska.

This, fellow CVI parents, is the conference where you can hear the most recent research on the science surrounding Cortical Visual Impairment and the art of the education of children with this brain based vision loss. The PCVI Conference is the place where you can meet fellow families, share your stories, ask your questions, and broaden your support network.

The goal of the American Conference on Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment
(PVCI) is to bring together occupational therapists, ophthalmologists,
optometrists, teachers of the visually impaired, neurologists, pediatric
intensivists, physiatrists and parents to increase interdisciplinary
understanding of cortical visual impairment in children.

Introducing the PCVI Society!

Image: Three people standing at a podium at Children’s Hospital and Medical Center. Sara Olsen, COO of the PCVI Society, Lindsey Hiller, the new PCVI Society president and Dr. Skip Legge, outgoing PCVIS president. These folks have championed our children for years. The conference has grown under their watch and under the watch of the PCVI Society Board. Trailblazers they are! Pith helmets for all!

We care about kids with CVI.

The mission of the Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment Society (“the Society”) is to advocate for improvement in the quality of life of children with vision loss due to brain disorder, disease or injury. The mission is restricted to matters concerning the sense of vision.

Goals

The mission of the Society will be fulfilled through the pursuit of the following goals:

1. Advance interdisciplinary education and research.

2. Enhance dissemination of information and its communication among and between professionals, parents, government and educational institutions, and other groups whom impact children with cortical visual impairment.

3. Advocate for the appropriate allocation of resources to allow for improved vision services for children with cortical visual impairment.

4. Improve public and professional awareness of cortical visual impairment in children.

5. Advocate for governmental policy that improves quality and quantity of vision services available to children with cortical visual impairment.

6. Engage in fundraising activities that will allow for advancement of the Mission and the Goals of the Society.

On this note, I am happy to tell you that there is a lot of momentum around raising awareness about Cortical Visual Impairment and improving medical and educational outcomes for our children. Top priorities for the next year are to create a new website with resources for doctors, providers, educators and families and to fund research.

To continue building the PCVI Society and to strengthen the Society’s ability to be a champion for children with Cortical Visual Impairment and their families, we need members.

The PCVI Society needs members to help us blaze a trail for our children.

———————————————–

BECAUSE

Children with CVI need to be identified as early as possible.

They need providers who understand the unique needs of children with CVI.

Families of children with CVI need support and education to help their children see the world.

———————————————-

So, I will make you the offer I made the folks at this year’s conference.

For the people who become members of the PCVI Society and who encourage two other people to become members of the Society, I – one random mom – will offer you your very own PITH HELMET OF GRATITUDE.

Just email me at Info@cvimomifesto.com with your name and the 2 (or more) other members you have recruited and I will have a pith helmet with your name on it at the 2019 PCVI Conference!

The pith helmet is for trail blazers! Get it? I forgot to say that at the conference. Also, it’s easier to bring pith helmets to a conference than homemade pie. Speaking of pie…

The future for our children and our families is currently under construction. The Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment Society is leading the way

Yesterday was Helen Keller’s birthday. In honor of her extraordinary heart and intellect. In honor of the brilliant teacher who opened up the world for her.

——————————————————————————–

In Helen Keller A Life, author Dorothy Herrmann describes the moment when Helen experiences the ocean for the first time. Anne Sullivan Macy, Helen’s teacher, explained later that she had anticipated Helen would be overjoyed by the full sensory experience of the pull of the tide and the wetness of the water.

What she did not expect was that Helen would emerge from the waves grimacing and coughing.

When she found her teacher’s hand, she demanded to know who put salt in the water?

Clearly Helen had not expected that either.

Reading this passage made me laugh out loud. It also reminded me that even when I try to teach E about the world, I will always have a lot to learn. I have typical vision. I experience the world visually, first and foremost. I will leave out key details.

I keep learning and trying because I am her mom. It’s challenging. I forget to describe salient features. I don’t always notice when she becomes still to listen to a fire truck that is passing because I’m rushing to get to the store. I sometimes forget to give her a verbal cue before I give her a new object. We have lost so much time in her education. There are still so many delays. There is so much to teach. I feel as though I am just now learning how to reach her. It can be very discouraging.

I find myself wondering how can I expect anyone else to try so hard when she is not even their kid? Curling up in a fetal position in the closet seems like the only choice. Then, I remind myself (clearly it’s quite busy in my head) that this is America. There are laws and systems in place because parents like me – like you – said “Enough already,” and demanded education for their children with special needs.

We are walking a path that has been paved by the parents before us. It’s a bumpy path with potholes the size of Texas, but, it’s a path nonetheless. As parents of children with CVI, we have to create our own lane.

What we do for our children, and together for all of our children, will begin a movement to create a system of services for children with CVI when we say “Enough already.”

A key part of “Enough already,” is understanding and explaining the effects of sensory loss because CVI makes it challenging for children to receive visual and auditory information. Even if your child is making great progress moving from Stage I to II to III in short order, your ability to advocate for access and why it is important remains the same.

Here is some information you can use when you are discussing how your child with CVI learns.

The website for the National Center on Deaf-Blindness (https://nationaldb.org) contains a wealth of information about the effects of sensory loss and the importance of knowing how to teach children who lack incidental learning. (Snuck that one in there on you. If you are reading this post for the first time, please go back and read the earlier posts about incidental learning. It’s my favorite two word phrase! There’s a quiz later. Not really.)

Here are some ideas that make sense from the perspective of the deaf-blind people who had them, but that might seem “odd” to someone with sight and hearing:

a boy thought “going home” meant the feel of a bumpy road and a series of turns in the car

a boy experiencing snow for the first time thought it was ice cream and asked for chocolate

a girl touched a wet leaf and signed “cry” (it felt like tears)

a girl thought food came from a mysterious place up high (it was always set down on the table from above)

a young man didn’t know, even after many years, that his family’s pet cat ate (he had never seen it or touched it as it ate, and no one had ever told him)

What each of these examples teaches us is how important it is to always be sensitive to and curious about a child’s perceptions of the world.

We need to continually ask, “What idea might she have or be developing about this experience, object, person, or place?”

If we want to help a child develop meaningful concepts, we must be willing to enter into a relationship and seek to understand the child’s concepts.

Children who lack sight and hearing or who have significant impairments in these senses, need to be consciously given continual access to the world and the society around them.

Most importantly, we must take the responsibility of providing experiences that will maximize the child’s opportunities to develop useful and meaningful concepts of the world.

(“We” meaning the parents, yes, but also, the teachers, therapists, aides, and administrators who plan learning experiences for our children.)

It can be done. Would there be a National Center on Deaf-Blindness if there had not been an extraordinary girl who became deaf-blind and an extraordinary teacher who made it her life’s mission to teach her?

I look to history to show us how to get where we need to go.

If even Anne Sullivan Macy forgot about the salt once in awhile, I can continue describing the world to my girl, making her experience books, and teaching her how to communicate through signs and technology

This post was one of the original posts after CVI Momifesto began in September 2017.

We are running it again as a lead up to the American Conference on Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment beginning on Friday, June 29, 2018 at the Children’s Hospital and Medical Center in Omaha.

Learn all you can about incidental learning. You may have to teach the folks who work with your children. Encourage them to learn more. Your child with CVI does not have visual access to the world. But, this visual access can improve.

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The following story is the final straw, the very last straw, the one that broke me and the camel’s back.

This is the story that led to my current life of crime, um, advocacy.

When my daughter, E, turned 3, she aged out of early intervention. This was after a thoroughly disheartening couple of years in search of an early interventionist who knew anything about CVI.

I realized it was going to be up to me to find the educational services she needed.

It was quite a learning curve and a huge responsibility. I was already sweating organizing doctor appointments and therapies (sometimes even successfully!), hunting down specialists, researching seizures and reflux, and occasionally, if absent-mindedly, patting my older daughter on the head.

I did not feel successful in anything I was trying to do. Launching my complicated daughter’s educational career was not something I felt equipped to do.

I was told that our state’s School for the Blind was too far: I would need to enroll her in our local special needs preschool. This was a developmental preschool classroom. The children had a variety of diagnoses. She was the only one with a diagnosis of vision loss. I was informed that the classroom teacher would have consult time with a Teacher of the Visually Impaired.

“Okay,” I thought, “I’ll just take them information about CVI. I can hand this over to the TVI.” Right? Right.

The classroom was as colorful and welcoming as any preschool classroom should be. This also means it was way too busy for a child in Phase I or Phase II of CVI. At the time, E was in early Phase II. I asked for a meeting with the teacher and TVI to get a jump on the accommodations and modifications we would need to develop together.

At the meeting, I gave the teacher resources I had printed out online. I began explaining the diagnosis and how we would need to simplify some places in the room if we were going to expect her to develop the use of her vision.

Then the TVI told me about the “one kid like that” she had 20 years ago.

A now familiar feeling of dread was born.

With little to no suggestions coming from our TVI, I suggested putting cloth on some of the toy shelves to create less complexity and clutter. I asked them to find a space for her with a tri-fold and an uncluttered table so that she could spend time learning new objects or pictures, without the visual and sound distraction from the classroom and other students.

My requests for modifications simply meant that, like any mother, I wanted her to have visual access to learning materials. I wanted her to have as much access as she could. This is more complicated for children with CVI. But, it is possible. Do-able even.

For E to be successful in this classroom, the staff would need to make the effort to understand her vision loss and to help her understand what she was seeing throughout the school environment. They needed to know that she could learn to see better and that they had a responsibility to support her in that.

I encouraged the teacher to make the requested modifications, and for the staff to read about CVI. I watched the TVI drop off a box from the American Printing House for the Blind.

Despite my feeling of dread, I thought, “I’ve got to give this time to play out.”

For a few weeks, when I dropped her off, I would linger awhile before leaving. Pretty soon I was getting the “let me do my job” stink-eye from the teacher and had to shuffle back to my car.

One day, near the end of class time, I dropped in a few minutes early to see how she was doing. Was she interacting with other kids? Were they explaining things to her? Giving her time to process? Encouraging her to touch things?

It was free play time. All of the kids, E included, were sitting on a brightly colored carpet. Behind them were low, wide bookshelves filled with toys and puzzles. Kids were reaching for toys, pulling them down, and putting them back. They rolled cars on the carpet, built block towers, or talked about which action figure was cooler.

Eliza sat with her back to a toy shelf. Smiling. She’s a happy kid. She was sitting next to an aide and listening to the kids playing. Seeing her smile made me happy too. She loves to be near other children. It was great to see her included with them. It was great that they were giving her a chance to get comfortable there with them.

The aide spied me in the doorway. I could tell she wanted to show me that they were keeping Eliza involved. So, she reached up on one of the shelves, grabbed a large plastic bin of legos and brought it down – crash – into Eliza’s lap.

Then, she reached into the bin and pulled out a small square stack of legos. She grabbed Eliza’s hand and put the legos in it.

“Here Eliza. This is a tree! Feel it? This is a tree.”

Eliza was startled both by the noise and weight of the bin dropped on her lap. To her it was just a loud noise and a physical intrusion. She was startled again by the suddenness of her hand being grabbed. The words made no sense to her.

She pulled her hand away, leaned over and curled up on the floor, overwhelmed by all of this confusing sensory input. The aide just looked back at me and shrugged.

That sound you just heard was the last straw breaking.

This moment gave me a chilling glimpse of the next 12 or so years in classrooms without teachers and staff who understand CVI.

If there was ever a kid who needed to learn about trees by touching them, E is the kid. If there was ever a kid who needed to go outside and feel the bark and the leaves and have it all explained to her (frequently) to make a lasting cognitive connection, E is the kid.

I suspect she is not the only one.

I wondered how many learning moments would pass right by her because a teacher or an aide didn’t understand that the way they were presenting the material was all wrong – and, quite likely, was pushing her further away, further into herself ?

Their ignorance would create behaviors that made her seem agitated or vacant.

(And, let’s consider this for a moment.

How much could you take if you were surrounded by flashes of light, color, and sounds that had no reference point?

What if people were always talking to you in words you found hard to understand or too quick to grasp?

What if, every day, you were told to move, yet before you could get your body organized enough to move, someone else’s hands grabbed your hands or your shoulders to steer you?

What if you didn’t have the ability to speak your joys, your frustration, your pain, or your fears?

What behavioral problems would you have on your report? How much would you learn?

My behavior report would be the size of your average copy of War and Peace, highlighted with lots of red exclamation marks, frowny faces, and the occasional cuss word.)

In this moment, I saw a situation that would begin in the ignorance, and, the apathy, of a teacher, an aide, and a TVI. Their inability to reach her would be documented as E’s lack of cognitive ability and her behavior problems.

It would start there, in preschool, but their ignorance and apathy would follow her every year as a downward spiral of low expectations about my girl’s abilities.

To learn, she needs to have experiences with the real objects. THE REAL OBJECTS. THE REAL PLACES. THE REAL ANIMALS. THE REAL SENSATIONS. (Within reason, I get that. We’re not going to run into the polar bear exhibit at the zoo to get the authentic Antarctic experience, or anything.)

THE REAL THING.

This is NOT a tree.

AND, this is NOT rocket science.

It is a problem, my fellow parents. A real problem for our kids. This is NOT how our children learn.

And, they can learn.

What can we do about it? I started telling this story to whomever would listen. Tell your stories. Ask for more real experiences in your child’s classroom. Ask your child’s teacher how she can bring real objects and real experiences into her classroom. (Because your child is not an incidental learner, right?) Ask them if they understand incidental learning. If they don’t, teach them. I know a great Blue Bowl story you can tell.

There are some advocacy action items in the works. CVI Momifesto will fill you in when we have more information.

Thank you for your comments and suggestions. We are a work in progress and will continue learning as we go.

It is good to know there are other parents out there on a similar path. And, as we travel this path together, may there be many beautful trees to touch, flowers to smell, apples to taste, and well behaved animals to pet, even the occasional even tempered polar bear. (Because how cool would that be?)

Hello fellow families of lovable children who happen to have cortical visual impairment,

In a previous post, I mentioned that, across the United States, more parents are educating themselves about their child’s diagnosis of CVI. They are taking their research into their IFSP and IEP meetings. They are asking their school districts how a child with CVI will be accommodated in the classroom.

Parents receive a wide spectrum of responses to their questions.

(And, I hammered this home with a tortured analogy from West Side Story. Sometimes I have to make sense of things through musical theater. Everyone has their thing. Don’t judge.

Image: Tony and Maria from West Side Story singing Somewhere (technically she’s lip-synching)

There’s a place for us….children with CVI to be educated in the manner in which they can learn because they can learn…..SOMEWHERE a place for ….children with CVI. Aren’t you glad I didn’t dredge that up again?)

As a direct result of the advocacy of parents in their individual IEP meetings, some school districts in America are recognizing CVI as a common diagnosis (#1 pediatric visual impairment – Can’t miss an opportunity to throw that in.) and as an obstacle to a child’s access (our favorite word) to a Free and Appropriate Public Education. In fighting for their own children, these parents are improving education for all of our children. It does not happen overnight, but there has been significant progress since I began looking for like-minded parents a decade ago.

It’s important for families to know that there are school and district administrators who are open to listening and to learning.

(There is a troubling issue with special education administrators. Did you know that special education administrators do not have to have a background in special education to hold their positions? Special education is a term which covers a wide variety of diagnoses and educational approaches. One would think that an administrator in this field would need more expertise to represent the students in their district, definitely not less. When I learned this, I wondered if this isn’t one of the reasons so many families feel like they are hitting a brick wall when they ask for teachers and staff to be trained in educating children with CVI. Something to consider.)

Kudos to the administrators who acknowledge the challenge of educating children with CVI and who take action to train their staff. This is new territory. They are leading by example.

Speaking of examples, Fairfax County Public Schools, the largest public school system in Virginia, has made a significant commitment to training teachers about cortical visual impairment through the Perkins-Roman CVI Range Endorsement.

Dr. Irene Meier is the Director of the Office of Special Education Instruction for FCPS. Two years ago, when parents met with Dr. Meier to give her information about cortical visual impairment and its impact on student learning, she was curious to learn more. She recognized the need for specialized training to work more effectively with children with CVI. She and Dr. David Lojkovic, Educational Specialist for Adapted Curriculum, worked with Perkins to provide FCPS teachers training through the Endorsement program.

When recently asked about the training, Dr. Meier responded:

“Our collaboration with Perkins and the feedback from the teachers was a very positive experience. We plan to continue to offer access to these courses next school year.
Over the course of the past two years, FCPS has been fortunate to participate in training, provided by the Perkins School for the Blind, that has advanced the skills of our staff who are working with students with cortical visual impairment (CVI). 21 FCPS teachers have taken either graduate level or advanced level courses, with several in that cohort pursuing the specialized endorsement in cortical visual impairment.

The feedback from teachers has been extremely positive.
Participant quotes: “I like taking Perkins’ classes because they’re structured, but flexible.”
“The assignments are challenging, but not too challenging.”
“The work we do in the classes can be directly applied to practice.”
Survey results show that teachers appreciate the opportunity to learn more about assessment with the CVI range and have used skills learned from the coursework with students that they serve. Furthermore, teachers indicated via survey that they were engaged in the coursework and felt encouraged to try strategies learned.
85% of participants in the coursework indicated that they learned new information as a result of taking the course.”

Image: A pith helmet

For her willingness to address the challenges of educating children with cortical visual impairment, CVI Momifesto would like to offer Dr. Irene Meier our first honorary Pith Helmet of Gratitude for helping parents of children with CVI forge a new path, blaze a new trail, if you will, in special education.

So, fellow parents –

if your child has been identified with cortical visual impairment and you are getting a lot of pushback from your school district when you ask for accommodations, modifications, and educators trained in CVI,

if hours of IEP meetings have worn you down so that you start to doubt yourself,

if you start to wonder if your request for your child to have access to her education is even possible,

remember that there are school districts, there are administrators, there are teachers who get it. They are working with parents. They are learning how to work with our children.

A question you may ask your school district might be, if Fairfax County can do it, why can’t we?

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P.S. If you know of a school or a district that has risen to the challenge of working with children with CVI, let us know at Info@cvimomifesto.com so we can spread the word!

IEP season is coming to a close in my neck of the woods. It has been intense. We hired an advocate for the first time in Eliza’s educational journey. I am glad we did. For the first time, I didn’t have to say much during the two meetings (4+ hours) we’ve had so far. It was a revelation. And, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Nothing has been finalized for us, but, the awareness that we have someone else on our team who speaks the school district’s language and understands how to articulate our goals for our girl is a gift.

We are going into overtime, people! Summer sessions! I still don’t really understand what that means, but I think our advocate does.

Aside from our personal experience, I have been curious about how other parents of childen with CVI fare during an IEP season. I did some reading.

I found this timely quote from the book, Vision and the Brain:

“As professional understanding of CVI increases,

it will be incumbent upon medical and educational systems internationally to explore ways to best provide services to the full spectrum of affected children.

This collaboration may lead to

additional, mandatory training for specialists,

reconsideration of guidelines and regulations for entitlements to services related to visual impairment,

and

reconfiguration of educational environments to accommodate, as part of universal design, the learning needs of this population.”

I wondered –

If professional understanding of CVI is increasing –

and we CVI savvy parents, therapists, educators, and ophthalmologists are doing everything we can to get professional understanding of CVI to increase-,

Then what is happening in terms of

“additional mandatory training for specialists,”

“reconsideration of guidelines and regulations for entitlements to services related to visual impairment,”

and

“reconfiguration of educational environments to accommodate… the learning needs of this population“?

I asked a lot of questions to moms on FB pages. I called a few of them. Several of the moms were kind enough to write me back or take my calls. And, these are busy ladies. I emailed a couple of organizations to ask about how they are addressing the increase in referrals of children with CVI.

This is just one random mom’s curiosity about how other people and places address the challenges our family faces.

There was a wide variety of experiences.

Worse case scenario: I was able to sit in on a due process hearing (about which I can say very little). Due process hearings are where you end up if you come to an impasse with your school district.

Best case scenario: There are some districts and areas of the country that are acknowledging CVI and, better yet, acknowledging the need to learn how to teach children with CVI.

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Worse case scenario: This IEP season, I sat in on a due process hearing for a family who has fought for years to have their daughter included in a classroom with proper accommodations for her diagnoses of CVI and hearing loss.

Four hours later, I had developed a tic under my right eye and drawn a binder full of unflattering renderings of the school district’s opposing council – a school district which has put this family through 7 levels of Hades over several years. The hearing went on for three more days.

I was frustrated for my friend and her daughter. I have spent time with this bright eyed girl and seen how she has learned to communicate. As a matter of fact, it was meeting her that renewed my hope that Eliza could learn to communicate. Because – in spite of odds that would curl your hair (my Appalachian grandma’s saying) – her mother would NOT give up hope. She educated herself about cortical visual impairment. She sought out experts. She created a learning environment and trained providers to serve her daughter at home while she fought the school system for appropriate placement.

Words that sound frightening and complex. Words that sound impossible to overcome.

Then, I started counting ceiling tiles because the words were too close to my own experience …. 1,2, 3…).

What about the common word in these phrases – children?

Children.

They are children first and foremost.

The word – the child – can get lost in the diagnoses, in the assessments and evaluations, in the IEPs and the litigation.

(…68,69,70….It was easier to count tiles than to follow the legalese.)

This is a child.

This is a child who can learn.

This is a child who is motivated to learn.

The sparkle in her eyes, the way she claps her hands to say “yes” in response to a questions, the way she laughs when she chooses her favorite toy, the fact that after years of physical therapy, she is becoming strong enough to stand on her own, these are details which should be celebrated. These are strengths we can build on.

Personal details get lost in testimony. “Sparkle” doesn’t translate very well to the courtroom. Nor do the hours of trial and error to teach a communication system, or to systematically teach a child to use her vision.

How can you get stern faces to understand the joy you felt when she answered a question for the first time? When she learned to say “yes?” What that means for her cognitive ability and her potential to learn?

And, if I felt that way in one afternoon, I cannot even imagine what her mother felt in 4 days of testimony.

She was so polished and poised. She explained in measured tones about her daughter’s challenging medical history. About her family’s tireless efforts to teach their daughter when school placements beginning with preschool failed over and over again.

(1001, 1002, 1003….)

This mother is looking for a place where her daughter can learn, where she can belong.

It’s just that simple.

Maybe not easy, I’ll grant you that. I live it. I get it.

But simple. And, do-able.

And, the attorneys argue about dates and emails and who did this or didn’t do that.

I cannot talk about what they discussed or what was decided.

It is all so painful and absurd that I had to go to my happy musical theater place.

Boy, if there was ever a place that needed a musical number, it was that conference room.

Listening to the debates and the arguments, I began hearing the song “Somewhere” from the movie West Side Story. The song is performed by the star-crossed lovers, Tony and Maria. Maria’s part was sung by someone who was not Natalie Wood but lip-synched by Natalie Wood (because, in 1961, actresses of actual Hispanic origin were cast only as chorus dancers or Rita Moreno – who nailed it! Bear with me here. There is a point.)

Cue the orchestra: Sing – um-, lip synch it, Natalie!

“Theeeeeere’s aaaaaaaaa plaaaaaace for us. There’s a place for us. Somewhere a place for us.”

That’s what we are looking for humorless suit people who wield too much power over a little girl’s education. If you truly understood what this girl, what her family has been through -if you truly understood ACCESS–argh. I can’t say anything… but no one said anything about SINGING….

SOMEWHERE

A PLACE FOR US

PEACE and QUIET (and no bickering attorneys and stern faced judges) and OPEN AIR

WAIT FOR US

SOMEWHERE

Somewhere a place our children can be taught in the manner they can learn by educators who believe they can learn.

A place for us.

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This IEP season, I spoke to other mothers who took the time to comment on the challenges or successes they were facing in their attempts to get their children ACCESSto a Free and Appropriate Public Education. Several of them wrote posts for CVI Momifesto. They are teaching the rest of us as they fight for their children.

The following conversations are happening in conference rooms in schools all over the country as

more and more children are identified with cortical visual impairment

and as more and more parents ask school districts how they will accommodate their children:

“We aren’t mandated by law to learn about CVI.” – Educator in Florida“But, you are required by law to teach my son” – CVI Mom in Florida

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“You want us to fix your child.” – Educator in Indiana

“She doesn’t need to be fixed.I want you to believe you can teach her. I want you to teach the way she can learn. ” – CVI Mom in Indiana

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“We are past tears here.” – CVI Mom in New York discussing the extensive list of accommodations she insists are in every draft of her son’s IEP

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What I see in the examples from a due process hearing and from conversations from IEP meetings is that

school by school, meeting by meeting, family by family, mom by mom –

momentum is building.

(Oh my gosh, it’s MOM-entum! I just blew my own mind.)

Parents are educating themselves about CVI and demanding to know how the education system will accommodate their children.

Image: A dance scene from West Side Story. Women and men in colorful dresses and suits with one arm raised.

I will post more on the places where school districts and organizations supporting the blind and visually impaired are taking the necessary steps to improve how they identify and how they accommodate children with CVI.

THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING IN SOME PLACES IN THE U.S.! SOME PLACES IN THE U.S. CVI PARENTS DON’T HAVE INDENTATIONS ON THEIR FOREHEADS FROM BANGING THEIR HEADS INTO A BRICK WALL OF IGNORANCE AND LOW EXPECTATIONS.

“SOME HOW, SOMEDAY, SOMEWHERE!”

Let’s dance!

For now though, I have to be at a 6th and 8th grade graduation in – oh dear – 4 hours.

Good morning fellow families of sparkling children who happen to have a diagnosis of cortical visual impairment!
Today, Hannah’s mom, Hope tells us about her feisty 4-year-old daughter and how she came to be diagnosed with cerebral/cortical visual impairment (CVI).

Hope and her husband, Rob, welcomed their first children, boy-girl twins at 24 weeks, 5 days gestation. When the twins were 18 months old, Hope was inspired to begin taking online classes at UMASS-Boston towards an M.Ed. in Vision Studies. She explains that by becoming a teacher of the visually impaired (TVI) she hoped to learn everything she could to help Hannah’s twin brother, Joseph. Joe was diagnosed with low vision due to retinopathy of prematurity (ROP).

As a student in Ellen Cadigan Mazel’s class on cortical/cerebral vision impairment (CVI), Hope began to suspect some of Hannah’s unusual visual behaviors may have resulted from her complex medical history following birth. Hannah had significant complications following birth as a micro-preemie weighing less than 1 lb 8 ounces including intraventricular hemorrhage (IVH) leading to post-hemorrhagic hydrocephaly (PHH) which required the placement of a shunt (when Hannah was 3 months old) to divert excess cerebral spinal fluid from her brain to her abdomen via a ventricular-peritoneal (VP) shunt.

Hope is writing today to encourage parents who suspect their son or daughter may have CVI to seek an expert opinion.

Hope also wants to encourage anyone reading this post to consider a career in vision studies. (Editor’s note: Yes! Yes!)

There is a growing need for TVIs, and COMS (Certified Orientation and Mobility Specialists) and there are openings in nearly every state.

Parents in or near New England can learn more about the UMASS-Boston program by visiting the website https://www.nercve.org/. Also, federal grants are available at some learning institutions to offset the cost of the degree. Parents could contact their bureau or agency for the blind for advice on finding a vision studies program near them.

Hope is extremely grateful to her son and daughter’s educational consultant from DORS-BESB, Gail Feld, who left a brochure about becoming a TVI for Hannah and Joe’s babysitter. As a result of finding the brochure, Hope found out about the program at UMASS-Boston. Hope also wishes to express her appreciation for Joe and Hannah’s educational teams for their optimism, enthusiasm, and innovative steps they have taken to give her children the access to learning which has brought them this far.

Image: Joe (a little boy in a blue t-shirt and jeans) and Hannah (a little girl in a yellow hat, pink t-shirt and jeans) take a break by sitting on the rear stairs of one of the vehicles at a Touch-A-Truck event.

What can you tell us about Hannah?

Hannah is a strong, loveable and capable little girl. Complications of premature birth left Hannah with hemiplegia of her left arm and left leg. She has not allowed this to slow her down one bit! She wrestles toys away from her twin brother, Joseph with ease and then gallops away. When Hannah sets her sights on something there is no stopping her. She has a drive to learn and a passion for letters and numbers. Her greatest strength is her memory. Her favorite person is her father, her favorite place is the beach or pool, and her favorite things are books and television.
We came to suspect Hannah might have CVI at around age 3. At a team meeting, her Pre-K teacher related a story about Hannah’s affinity for a yellow spoon (color) which she would reportedly always look for and gaze at for long minutes during free-choice play. At home, color seemed to be an important element for Hannah in objects she was attracted to. She would always try to get her hands on the can of Pam ® cooking spray. Whenever this distinctive yellow and red can was near the edge of the counter, Hannah would try to reach it. Once I learned about the ten characteristics of CVI from Ellen Cadigan Mazel, my professor at UMASS-Boston, I began to suspect there was more to this “quirky” behavior.

I asked Hannah’s TVI, Peggy Palmer, if she thought it might be worth assessing Hannah for CVI. As it turned out—it was! Hannah’s results on Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s CVI Range put her in Phase III. The best outcome as far as Rob and I are concerned is that strategies for supporting children with CVI in the classroom, once implemented, made learning available to Hannah even before she was formally diagnosed, at age 4, with CVI by her ophthalmologist, Dr. Tara Cronin.
The diagnosis of CVI gave our family and the educational team a rich context for understanding how color could be an anchor for Hannah and why complexity inhibited her learning. For me, I finally began to understand my daughter’s unexplained behaviors. For example, when we brought Hannah to the toy store or library to pick out something “new”, she would consistently gravitate toward books and toys she already had (novelty). Her preschool teacher came to understand Hannah could attend to the activities of circle time ONLY if she were provided with hands-on materials to ground her in the activities of the meeting. Hannah’s physical therapist came to see Hannah learns best when verbal directions are given first, BEFORE actions are modeled with NO talking (complexity).

Now that Hannah is approaching kindergarten age, the biggest hurdles she needs to overcome are social. Hannah struggles to name classmates accurately UNLESS she is provided with auditory or other clues as to their identities (prosopagnosia).

What lessons has motherhood taught you?

Hannah and her twin brother, Joseph have taught me I need to be a strong and confident leader—even on those days when I do not feel strong or confident. While it is important to listen to what medical and educational professionals have to say, at the end of the day you need to trust your instincts. You alone are the true expert when it comes to your child and no one has a greater interest than you in his or her wellbeing.

Image: Hannah (a little girl in ponytails holding a green stuffed animal), Hope, and Joe (a little boy in a blue baseball cap and glasses) on his mother’s lap. They are relaxing on a butterfly shaped bench at Magic Wings in Dearfield, Massachusetts.

Another thing Joe and Hannah have taught me is that all children can—and do—learn. Behavior is the result of learning. If a child has behavior—whether it is functional or not—it is the result of learning. As our children’s first teachers, and later as their educational advocates, we need to make sure there is a match between our child’s availability to learn (attention) and the appropriateness of his or her environment for learning (access).

What advice would you give the parents of a child newly diagnosed with CVI?

Be the “help” you think your family needs. I am proud of the parent I have become as a result of all the challenges my family and I have overcome together. I have grown into a question-asking, action-taking, resistance-battling parent. While I do my best to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, I seek my own answers and have—by becoming a TVI—gone to great lengths to become more capable of understanding my children’s visual diagnoses.

No degree is required to stay abreast of best practices in the education of students with visual impairment. Family Connect provides a host of free resources for parents of children with visual impairment and blindness. Organizations like NAPVI and NFB’s POBC offer opportunities for families to network. Rob and I are most appreciative of our families, friends and co-workers who supported the four of us through the past few challenging-but-transformational years.

It has truly taken a village to raise our two resilient and amazing children.

Another piece of advice I have is this: Believe in resilience.

One neonatologist, Dr. Gruen, assured us that despite their extensive brain bleeds (intraventricular hemorrhages) and ROP (retinopathy of prematurity) our children would go on to have remarkably good outcomes. He knew this, he said, because Hannah and Joe had caring, educated parents who were involved in their day-to-day care. He assured us that between early intervention services and lots of love, our twins would have “everything they needed”. And he was right!
It seemed, in those early days, that what the twins needed was something only “expert” others could provide. Day and night, nurses and doctors intubated, extubated, and re-intubated the babies who seemed to be in a constant struggle to survive. It was two weeks before their skin was deemed “intact enough” that we could safely reach a hand into their incubators and touch our own children. For ten precious minutes at a time, I held my hand flat on the back of one or another sleeping baby. Under that hand was a little person who found themselves in a world an entire trimester too soon. But they were here, and we would do our best to keep them here.

Before their eyes were even open, and before we were ever able to hold Joe or Hannah, Rob and I read to them through an open “port-hole” in each incubator. The host of readers grew to include grandparents and friends. As a result of all this TLC, Joe and Hannah have developed a deep love of books. On more than one occasion, each child has insisted on carrying a book into bed with them as one might a favorite stuffed toy or a blanket.

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If I could go back in time and give advice to my former self, it would be this:

1) Ask plenty of questions.

2) Accept resistance as a lack of understanding (of CVI).

3) Place trust in those who have earned it.

To this I would add: trust yourself above all others because—and believe me on this—no one cares more about helping your child achieve his or her best educational and medical outcomes than you and your family do.

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On Asking Questions

From the time they began to open their eyes in the NNICU, I was filled with questions about Joe and Hannah’s unusual visual behaviors which I did not ask. I was busy asking lots of other questions. I wanted to understand the implications of their high and low (blood) lab values, I would ask how long the treatment for NEC (necrotizing enterocolitis) would last and how long it might be before Joe and Hannah would be well enough for us to do skin-to-skin care.
Soon, I started to observe some unusual visual behaviors almost from the time their eyes were no longer covered with light-therapy sleep-shades. One twin was staring up at the lights while the other seemed photo-phobic. I had questions. I did not ask all of them. Why not?
First, I had the feeling I should accept my children’s unusual visual behaviors. I suspected that any vision differences were a consequence of their premature birth and were to-be-expected. When our children were born 16 weeks early, we were told each baby had a 50/50 chance of survival. They were fighting for their very lives, not striving towards the next developmental milestone. Three months had gone by and Joe and Hannah’s “age-typical” peers were still in-utero; there were no “age typical” peers to compare them to.
Second, I held back from asking all the questions I had because of a sense that I (or we) had already asked enough questions. I had the irrational belief that if I exceeded some perceived “quota” of parent questions it would in some way slow down the progress of the care-team. The meetings ran close to an hour as it was, and, after all, weren’t we lucky to even be permitted a seat at the table?

What does Hannah like to do? What are her favorite activities? What do you like to do as a family?

Hannah loves to laugh. She has the most infectious laugh and almost anything silly will make her giggle. She especially likes when grown-ups make mistakes, such as mixing her up with her brother, Joe and calling them by the “wrong” names. As a family we enjoy swimming and going to the beach to build sandcastles.

Image: Hope and Hannah pose with Splash (a large colorful fish sculpture) on a recent trip to the Connecticut Science Center.

What do you hope to do as a TVI you were not able to do as a parent?

I look forward to working with children with CVI and other visual issues because I know I can direct them toward resources I know from first-hand experience to have been helpful. Not everyone is ready to “join” a parent organization but I want my clients to know they are not alone. Other people are going through the same or similar experiences. It is my hope to support those individuals who are ready by helping families find each other, network, and come to consensus about what needs to change at a systems level.

What do you worry about? What changes do you feel are needed?

Right now, I think there is a need for more information about CVI to be made available to education professionals starting with TVIs. The UMASS Boston program made a course on CVI a requirement for all TVI candidates. Other programs need to follow suit. Personally, I would be happy to speak to pre-service teachers—special educators especially—to provide some training on the characteristics of CVI. As a parent of a child with CVI and a newly minted TVI I feel I could provide an overview of this public health crisis and its causes. My goal would be to introduce them to some modifications and accommodations which can be of help to all students but especially to kids with CVI. I plan to start by reaching out to colleges and universities close to where I live in Connecticut.

As a TVI and a parent I worry about children with CVI who need appropriate services but for whatever reason are not receiving them. Also, I worry about the state-by-state criteria for low vision services. I believe every child whose CVI impacts their access to the general curriculum should be eligible for low vision services regardless of the results of their visual acuity test. Some parents are hesitant to bring their children with CVI for a low-vision exam. They are fearful a near-normal visual acuity result could cause their needful children to be identified as NVI (Not Visually Impaired) when, in fact, they are impaired.

Big and little changes are needed.

The time is NOW and the power is US.

Thank you, Hope! I absolutely agree. I have learned so much from your story and your dedicated efforts to become an expert for your children.

There is a national shortage of teachers of the visually impaired and certified orientation and mobility specialists. This is part of the reason it can be so difficult to find educators trained in working with children with CVI. With parent advocates/TVI like Hope, the time IS now.

Image: A smiling family (Mom/Jennifer, Dad/Greg, brother/Chase and Rheanon) in their Sunday best standing outside in front of a fountain on a green lawn.

What does Rheanon like to do? What makes her laugh? What are her favorite activities? What do you like to do as a family?

Rheanon is a happy go lucky little girl! She loves to take care of her babies (all 15 of them) and she absolutely loves when she gets to hold a real baby! She likes to snuggle with and talk to both me and her father. She likes to watch Daniel Tiger on PBS as well as play with her Daniel Tiger characters. Her favorite episode is “The Baby is Here”. She can recite the words and sing the songs.

She has the most infectious laugh and most anything silly will make her laugh. She especially likes when we say the wrong thing, such as mixing up Aunt and Uncle. We tease her about loving hot dogs and opening her own hot-dog restaurant because she does not like them at all, she is also not a fan of white socks or my favorite local pizza shop.

We like to spend time together as a family, playing games such as Zingo and Sequence, reading stories, & visiting family. In the summer, Rheanon loves to go for walks. Her favorite thing is to go to the local amusement park, Knoebels. She likes the spinning, fast moving, belly tickling rides.

Image: Rheanon and her brother, Chase. She is wearing a Start Seeing CVI t-shirt.

When did you learn about CVI? How were you given the diagnosis?

We learned that Rheanon had CVI when she was 1 year old, but we didn’t get a diagnosis until she was 2 years old.

We knew that she wasn’t ‘seeing’ when we brought her home from the hospital but the doctors in the NICU said it was because of her prematurity. In time, we were told, she would be fine.

After a few weeks at home, I learned of the Infantsee program. I took her to our optometrist who said the said the same thing, “Delayed Visual Maturation”.

When she was 6 months, she was diagnosed with Infantile Spasms. All of our energy went to stopping the seizures. With an aggressive neurologist, special diets, and heavy duty medications, she had her last seizure 5 months later.

At this point, we were working with Early Intervention and had an in-home PT and Teacher. Early Intervention referred us to Blind and Visual Services. BVS then got us an appointment with an Optometrist in State College. It was there that Rheanon was diagnosed with CVI.

But, we needed a diagnosis from an ophthalmologist.

The first ophthalmologist gave no credit to the optometrist or the diagnosis. He said we should, “take her to the mall to look around.”

We went to Will’s Eye in Philadelphia for tests to rule out everything else.

My child, who we adopted, who we weaned off of drugs, who just got done having steroids and hormone injections to stop her seizures, had to be sedated so they could hold her eyes open and rule out all other diagnoses when an optometrist diagnosed her correctly (and immediately) months before.

They ultimately gave her the CVI diagnosis.

We got a TVI after that, though very few CVI strategies were ever put into place. I didn’t understand it and her team didn’t understand it and there was not a push or a requirement for them to do so.

I took her to the Overbrook School for the Blind for an outreach program. Overbrook staff told us how smart she was and how much she would be able to learn.

I took her to Altoona where a team of teachers and therapists from the Western Pennsylvania School for the Blind met us to evaluate her. Most of her Early Intervention team came along – PT, OT, TVI, O&M, Teacher and EI director. We learned some strategies, but once we returned home, no one knew how to continue.

We had 2 assessments by Dr. Roman at WPSB and then 2 more assessments by a TVI after Dr. Roman moved on from that program. I would bring the assessments back home to the team but nothing ever came of them.

Rheanon is a smart girl.

Dr. Roman said at one meeting, “She is making you think she can see more than she can.”

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Rheanon is now 10. She attends her neighborhood elementary school and is in the third grade.

Her recent assessment with Dr. Roman puts her at phase 2 on the CVI Range.

I think that the members of her team are excellent teachers and therapists.

However, I do not think that they are knowledgeable in CVI, therefore I do not think that she is being supported properly.

I feel like I keep bringing things to the table to help and they keep getting pushed aside.

I feel like they are squashing her potential.

I feel like they don’t think CVI is affecting her.

I feel like our team has fallen apart.

I feel completely alone in the fight for her.

I am fighting for her right to learn. Her right to learn in the way she needs to learn.

And I don’t understand why this is so difficult.

I refuse to let her down, so we push forward. We may lose old friends but we gain new ones.

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Rheanon doesn’t always interpret things correctly, most often its people that she misinterprets. White haired ladies are grandma, tall men with deep voices are our neighbor Howard…

She knows her sight words well, but she struggles to read sentences.

Image: Rheanon’s brother, Chase, leans over an IPad and traces sight words for his sister.

Her memory though – Holy Cow – I may never have to buy another planner.

I joke that she can work for the CIA someday because her questioning is persistent and she will find the hole in your plan.

Image: Rheanon, a smiling girl with short hair in a red sweatshirt.

I won’t look back again with regret that we didn’t do everything we could.

And, Jennifer is changing the way Pennsylvania serves its children with cortical visual impairment. She knows a thing or two about advocacy; She works for the Arc of Pennsylvania. (If you have never heard of the ARC, look it up. There should be a local office near you. They are there to educate, support and fight for you and your child with special needs.)

Jennifer has also paired up with another mom to offer presentations about how to work with children with Cortical Visual Impairment to local early interventionists. Can’t wait to hear how those presentations are received!

Thank you, Jennifer, for sharing your family and your clever and tenacious girl with us!

Good morning fellow families of resilient and adorable children who have cortical visual impairment!

This morning we have the pleasure of hearing from Logan’s mom, Barbara.

Photo: Barbara, a woman with short dark hair, She holds the right arm of Logan, a little boy in a shirt and tie who is held by his father, Leo, a tall man with dark hair. They are all smiling.

When we first spoke, my intention was to ask Barbara the questions that other moms have been kind enough to answer for earlier Moms on Monday posts. As any parent of a school-age child with CVI knows, it’s still IEP (Individualized Education Plan) season. That means CVI moms and dads across America are buying Tums in bulk and putting lawyers on speed dial in their never-ending search for a Free and Appropriate Public Education (FAPE) for their children. (It’s the law, by the way.)

We didn’t get around to the questions during the first conversation because Barbara’s focus (like so many other parents of school-age children with CVI) is making sure his school team understands that cortical visual impairment requires accommodations throughout the day, extra training for staff, and modifications for school materials.

“Every obstacle that has been put in front of him, he has overcome.”

Photo: A little boy in a green t-shirt and sports glasses. Smiling broadly, he is missing one of his front teeth.

Logan is 5 years old. His mom and dad recently attended the transition IEP meeting to prepare for his kindergarten placement. The school team proposes placing him in a self-contained classroom for visually impaired children. Barbara would like Logan to be placed with his peers in an inclusive setting with appropriate support. She would like to tell them to “stop putting my round peg in your square hole.”

According to Barbara, this year the focus is to make the school system understand how much they don’t know about CVI. They can try to contest the CVI Range, but they are required to give him ACCESS to his environment.

“We need him to be independent. We don’t need them to feel sorry for him and think ‘Poor thing.’ We don’t want them to assume that he will never get a diploma. At the end of the day, he’s going to have to function in the real world.”

A teacher at the proposed placement told Barbara, “I’m not trained in CVI. I’ve never had a kid with cortical visual impairment.”

At the IEP meeting, Barbara was told, “Our teachers aren’t required by law to become CVI endorsed.”

She replied,“But, you are required by law to teach my son.”

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And, this, fellow parents, is where we find ourselves in IEP meetings across America. Our children exhibit some or all of the 10 characteristics of cortical visual impairment. They require assessment so teachers will understand how our children use their vision and to plan accommodations to help them improve their functional vision.

The assessment is the CVI Range (Dr. Christine Roman). The CVI Range was validated by the research of Dr. Sandra Newcomb (Journal of Visual Impairment and Blindness, 2010).

Our children’s vision can improve. This is an issue ofaccessibilitynot disability.

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Logan is currently non-verbal. Over the past 6 months he has learned how to communicate with an AAC (Augmentative Alternative Communication) device. During the meeting, Barbara requested that Logan’s teacher receive training in how to use AAC devices and how to communicate with children who are non-verbal, but this training was not added to the IEP.

In response, the school system requested that Logan be assessed through an educational evaluation by a psychologist. Barbara, his mom, is also a developmental psychologist. She explained to the school team that psychoeducational assessments are not appropriate for children with visual impairments. (See post: Death by IEP / Why Formal Assessments Do Not Work for Children with CVI or other Sensory Loss)

Barbara would like a teacher who understands cortical visual impairment and how Logan communicates with his AAC device.

What I want educators to know about Logan.

“Logan enjoys a challenge. He never gives up. I want educators to know that teaching Logan is about giving him ACCESS to his education.
I recently saw a video of a mother whose daughter has cerebral palsy. The mother explained how hard it was for her daughter to get her body to do what she wants it to do. She said that people often misinterpret difficulty – the physical difficulty of getting your body to move the way you want it to – for an intellectual disability.
Logan has overcome every challenge placed in front of him. One time, when he was a baby and still not sitting up yet, I heard him laughing in another room. I went in to see what he was doing. He was laughing because he had gotten himself into a sitting position all by himself. From then on, I knew that laugh meant he was up to something. He doesn’t give up.
School is supposed to offer him the least restrictive environment, not the most restrictive environment. At the end of the day, he is going to be in the real world. I want him to have experiences in the real world and, for me, this means being educated along side typically developing peers.”

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Introduction: Logan lives in Florida with his mom, Barbara, dad, Leo, and 3 siblings, Lauren, Liam, and Landon. Landon and Logan are twins.

What does Logan like to do? What makes him laugh? What are his favorite activities? What do you like to do as a family?

Logan is a very social kid. He loves to interact with other people both adults and children. He loves it when people play games with him and sing to him, especially interactive songs like Wheels on the Bus. He loves to play Peek-a-Boo. He enjoys when I go outside and surprise him by looking in the window. He is a very active kid. He loves to dance and to jump around.

We do all the stuff other families do. He goes where we go. We go to the pool, play in the yard, go to museums and Disneyworld.

Photo: Four children posing for a picture with big smiles. Three boys, Landon, Logan, and Liam in colorful checked shirts and dark pants. Their older sister, Lauren, in a red dress with a matching red bow in her long curly hair, stands in the middle behind Logan.

When did you learn about CVI? How were you given the diagnosis?

“Stumbling over diagnoses” has been a recurrent theme with Logan.

When he was 8 months old, he began sleeping a lot. When he woke up, his high-pitched cry was different than his usual cry. I remember taking videos of spasms that happened when he slept.

We had lots of doctor appointments back then since the twins were preterm. I asked about the spasms and the high-pitched crying. It wasn’t until we went to a new neurologist that we were taken seriously. The neurologist took one look at him and told me to go to the hospital immediately. He was hospitalized with Infantile Spasms.

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I tried to get him enrolled in a special needs daycare through the state because he needed every therapy there was and my insurance wouldn’t cover it. It was a struggle to get him into the program even though he fit their criteria.

The head therapist suggested that I apply for Medicaid waiver funding for Logan. I told her we couldn’t because my husband works. She told me Logan had one of those diagnoses where he would be eligible.
“What diagnosis is that?” I asked.
She printed out a list of eligible diagnoses. One of them was cerebral palsy.

“He has this?”

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I have gotten used to going against the grain.
When Logan was smaller, we decided that Logan should have a selective dorsal rhizotomy in the hopes that he would become more mobile. His physical therapists advised against it. After the procedure, he began standing and even learned to use a walker. He now walks without assistive devices.

The physical therapists are now recommending the procedure to other families.

Phote: Logan in a t-shirt that says “Little Explorer” walking with a reverse walker

A couple of years ago, I attended a conference on cerebral palsy and developmental medicine. It was then that I first heard about CVI. I thought, “Oh, this looks complicated. I don’t know if this applies to him but I have to learn.”

Logan had been followed by a pediatric ophthalmologist because he also has strabismus and we were patching. Yet, I had never heard about even the possibility of CVI from our ophthalmologist.

When Logan was 3 years old, I told our neurologist that I noticed things that didn’t “make sense.” I found it odd that TV didn’t interest him at all. His sister and brothers watched cartoons, but cartoons didn’t interest him. I wasn’t thinking about vision. I’m a developmental psychologist. I was thinking maybe the cartoons were abstract and his thinking was too concrete for them.

The neurologist couldn’t answer my questions. She said there were no studies on kids who don’t watch TV.

I took my newfound information about CVI to our pediatric ophthalmologist and asked him if it was possible that Logan had CVI. He said, “Yeah, he has that. I guess I’ll refer you to the Lighthouse for the Blind.”

I was floored. It was like receiving a cancer diagnosis. I didn’t know anything about CVI. And now, you’re telling me my child is blind and you’ve never told me this before?

I asked my pediatrician how long the diagnosis had been in his file. Apparently when Logan was 2 1/2 years old, the diagnosis was added to his file without informing me.

We didn’t know he had CVI for 4 years. When I finally made contact with the Lighthouse for the Blind they sent someone to come work on a few things through the Blind Babies program. However, once he entered the Visually Impaired program within our local school district, the Blind Babies program closed out the case. In the school district, we were only give consultation services from the TVI.
Now that Logan is 5, the Lighthouse for the Blind is supposed to offer services for children with blindness and visual impairment. They offer blind children support with braille or technology 2 Saturdays/month. When I ask for services for CVI, I was only offered once a month.

What would you tell a mom whose child has just been identified with CVI?

First, I would say it’s not the end of the world. CVI is treatable. Their vision can improve.

You are not alone. I haven’t found any other moms here of children with kids with CVI. One of the things I have found is that Facebook can help you find a community and can help you find answers. For example, I found out that the Texas School for the Blind was holding a conference on Phase III with Dr. Christine Roman-Lantzy. There were grants for families to attend, but the families had to be from Texas. I asked our Lighthouse for the Blind and Division of Blind Services if there was grant money for this conference. They said no. I paid to go to the conference. I was grateful that TSBVI waived my registration fee.

At this conference, I got a lot of information. I got to meet Dr. Roman. I learned about the weekly CVI conference call sponsored by the Lighthouse Guild. I learned that there are TVI who are willing to learn about CVI and work with families to help them learn more about giving their child access to their environment.

What would you like people who have never heard of CVI to know?

CVI is a lot more common than you think. It is not a problem with his eyes. It is his brain. His brain has a hard time taking in visual information.

He is a very social kid. Still, I have to explain to people at school that when you see him smiling and waving at you, he sees you, but he doesn’t know who you are.

What are your hopes and dreams for Logan?

My hopes and dreams for him are the same ones I have for my other kids. To be successful in school, to have friends, to be the typical kid he is.

I have learned to quiet that part of me that says “He can’t do it. I have learned to quiet the skeptic in me. No one knows his potential. Including me.

I have to try.

It’s what moms do.

It is what moms do. Every day. Thank you Barbara for sharing your experiences. You have a beautiful family.

About 8 years ago, I attended a conference at a School for the Blind I will not name to learn about the options for transitioning visually impaired toddlers to preschool.

During a panel presentation of expert educators at the school, a grandmother sitting down the aisle from me raised her hand. She stood and asked about the diagnosis her grandbaby had just received, “It’s called cortical visual impairment. I’d like to know what we can do to help her.”
At that point, my daughter was going on 3 years old. I had been researching CVI and how to modify our home environment for Eliza for a couple of years. We had seen Dr. Roman-Lantzy a couple of times. I was waiting to hear the experts recommend her book or mention that vision can improve with accommodations – with education. I wanted to hear what this panel had to say – maybe they knew something I didn’t.
Then, one of the experts told the grandmother and the whole auditorium of parents from all over the state that there was nothing she could do. CVI might improve. It might not. At her granddaughter’s young age, she would just have to wait and see and hope her vision improved.

Wait and see and hope.

Wait

&

See

&

Hope

?

If that is the most passive piece of advice you’ve ever received, then raise your hand – or wait – Don’t raise your hand: Stare at your hand and wait for it to raise itself.

Yes, there are times when a situation is beyond your control and the only thing to do is to wait and see and hope. I am familiar with these times.

There are also times when you create hope through your actions.

It’s important to be able to tell which is which.

The experts went on to the next question. The grandma sat down and folded her hands in her lap. My jaw fell open. I wanted her to ask a follow up question. I wanted her to ask why they thought there was nothing that could be done for an infant with CVI.

I wanted to stand up and tell them they were dead wrong. Neuroplasticity makes an infant’s brain open to learning: It makes new pathways for functional vision possible. The time to begin working with her granddaughter was yesterday.

I wanted to reach across the aisle – across the other families separating us – so I could pat her hand and tell her that she had not been given the right information.

I didn’t.

I sat in my seat and stewed. I didn’t feel as though I knew enough to raise my hand in front of a crowd to contradict the very people who were hosting the conference. It was frustrating and surprising that a school could be giving wrong information to families.

I regret that silence.

I regret not sharing my story with that grandmother.

I regret not asking her for her story.

My silence did not serve anyone that day. Because I stayed silent, that woman remained alone. Sitting down the aisle from her, I remained isolated from her. We left and went our separate ways.

I hope she went home and continued researching. I hope she found the support she needed. I wish it didn’t have to be so difficult to sort out accurate information about cortical visual information and how to support children with it.
I have thought about silence a lot over the years.

How silence keeps people separated. How silence allows incorrect information to stand uncontested.

I have thought a lot about hope.

Being hopeful can be a very vulnerable place to live. For every one person who agrees with you, there are twenty who look at you funny and wait for your high expectations to come crashing down. For every one person who offers a hand, there are twenty who are quick to step back with a snide comment or a sigh.

Cynicism is easy. It requires no effort at all. It is dull and lifeless. Cynicism is fueled by fear – fear of exposure, fear of failure, fear of judgment.

Hope can be hard. Hope requires energy. Hope is fueled by love. Thankfully, love is the easy part. We have an abundance of it.

Sometimes, if you are lucky, you find words artfully put together that capture a feeling you carry around with you. Finding them makes you feel less alone. Sharing them makes your heart happy as though the words could stretch out to embrace someone the way they embraced you.

Recently I was lucky enough to stumble upon words that described my favorite kind of hope. The hope I know what to do with.

“Though hope may sometimes seem like a luxury – frivolous, groundless, insubstantial – it is precisely the opposite.

Hope is elemental. It is made of some of the strongest stuff in the universe.

It endures.

Hope does not depend on our mood, our disposition, our desire.

Hope does not wait until we are ready for it, until we have prepared ourselves for its arrival.

It doesn’t hold itself apart from us until we have worked through the worst of our sorrow, our anger, our fear.

This is precisely where hope seeks us out, standing with us in the midst of what most weighs us down.

Hope has work for us to do.

It asks us to resist going numb when the world within us or beyond us is falling apart.

In the height of despair, in the deepest darkness, hope calls us to open our hearts, our eyes, our hands, that we might engage the world when it breaks our hearts.

Hope goes with us, step by step, providing the sustenance we most need.”

–– Jan Richardson, The Cure for Sorrow

This is what is rattling around in my busy head these days, fellow families. Some days, some years are like that I suppose. Most days I do my very best to listen to what hope tells me to do. There is work to be done.

Every day, I know that cynicism is a luxury I cannot afford. I know that.

On the days, I can’t listen to the “to-do list” hope has for me, I am comforted by the fact that there are others who will listen for me until I can engage the world again with a broken and fierce heart.

This is me waving from my little corner of chaos to yours with affection and flowers of particularly popular colors I’m sure you can appreciate.

After a full day of presentations on a wide variety of topics and fun activities, parents of young children with vision loss came together in the school auditorium. Before they left, I asked them to share something they were going to take away from this experience by writing it on a post it note and placing it on a whiteboard near the stage. Some folks wrote a single word. Some wrote more. Each sentiment is the beginning of a story only they can write. A story with an ending they can control.

Maybe, a story they can share when they speak at the Perkins 50th annual Early Connections Conference. Or 75th…. who knows?

Here are the words of the parents.

Hope

I hope every parent can be brave to fight their children

The kid with special needs was born to show us WE ARE STRONGER THAN WE THOUGHT

Support each other

I want to bring this amazing inspiration to my home, family, work, city, and country – all countries!

Stay strong.

We are all on a journey looking for answers and connections. #FeedtheHope

If a 3-year-old understands this, then I need to up my game. #FeedtheHope

You are not alone. You are an amazing parent. Don’t ever think otherwise.

I will choose how the story ends.

Teamwork

Faith

Never feel alone again.

Image: An illustration of the words “We’ve Got This” held up by a group of women. A baby sits on top of the words holding a rattle in the air. Illustration doodled by Ian Christy (https://www.instagram.com/i.christy/)

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Image: Ron Benham , Danielle Bangs on the left. Teri Turgeon standing on the right of a whiteboard. On the whiteboard is written “Happy 35th Perkins School!” The whiteboard is covered in colorful post it notes.

At the end of the conference, Perkins recognized the achievements of Ron Benham, who is retiring from his position as Bureau Director at the Massachusetts Department of Public Health. Ron was one of the people in Massachusetts who understood the importance of early intervention and helped to build (and find funding) for the service system over 30 years ago. Families of children with special needs benefit today from the decades of work of dedicated professionals like Ron Benham.

Bravo Ron! Bravo Teri and Ed and Danielle and everyone at Perkins! Bravo fellow families! We are in this together!

Hello fellow families of magnificent children who happen to have a diagnosis of cortical visual impairment,

I had the opportunity to speak to a group of families with children (ages birth to 7) who have vision loss at the Early Connections Conference at Perkins School for the Blind.

A few months ago, Education Director, Teri Turgeon wrote me and asked if I was game to come to the conference and speak. There may have been a moment of panic.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked her.

“Just tell your story,” she said.

Huh.

This got me thinking. And over-thinking.

I have nearly 12 years of Eliza stories. Most often, I blurt them out at inopportune moments –

to E’s ABA therapists as they are collecting what they need before a session,

to GI nurses asking me for her health history,

to her school aide who just really wants to go to lunch. (And that is just this week.)

These are the people I see most frequently.

I realize as I get some perspective on this past decade or so, these stories have to be told. If only so I can get out from under them.

Here was an actual invitation to speak instead of someone politely nodding until I trail off…. Bliss!

Here’s the first half.

I am the mother of a child who received early intervention services. Which means that I am a mother who received early intervention services. These supports are as much or more for us than for our children. Even when your child “graduates” from EI, you’re always an early intervention mom. It’s a world we never knew existed until we needed it. I will always carry a debt of gratitude for the compassion and knowledge a team of women in two states brought into my house. Women who saw me at my most desperate and disheveled. Women who never once said, “Haven’t you been wearing those sweatpants for a week?”

I know firsthand how important early intervention is. It is critical to have intensive support at the beginning of your journey of becoming the parent of a child with special needs.

And, it is a becoming.

Becoming a parent changes you.

Becoming a parent of a child with vision loss and special needs changes you. If you had told me 10 years ago that I would have a chance to speak to a group of families like mine, I would have paid more attention, or tried to – as it was the sleep deprivation and worry nearly killed me – so, maybe not.

This is the 35th annual Early Connections Conference. Being here to celebrate Perkins’ commitment to the education and support of families like ours is an absolute joy for me.

When I thought about coming to speak to you, I thought about my own conference experiences. I’m usually sitting where you are trying write down every word. Because Eliza is a puzzle. She has multiple diagnoses but no definitive diagnosis as a cause for her issues, I’ve been to a lot of conferences trying to figure her out. I went to anything I could find on cortical visual impairment. I went to conferences on Cerebral Palsy, general special education and early childhood conferences. I was a conference groupie.

As life with Eliza unfolded, more complications occurred. We all got less sleep. Life became more stressful and – yes – complicated. (Complications make your life complicated. Mind blown.)

She was a puzzle. I was trying to find THE expert who could explain what was happening to us. Someone who could fix everything or SOMEthing. In spite of my best efforts, it slowly became apparent that this was not a possibility.

It was just really hard.

At the time, I thought if I just try harder, if we add one more therapy, if I read one more book or find one more specialist or go to one more conference – then I can help her learn how to bear weight on her legs, or sit up independently, or eat, or speak.

My thought process went like this: I have seen the movies! I can do this. All it takes it a plucky mom who never gives up. Right?

My experiences with conferences usually had one of the two following outcomes:

Conferences where the speakers (either parents or self advocates or doctors) seemed to have everything together. They overcame challenges with a single bound and sheer dint of will. They held down full-time jobs as lawyers, saints, superheroes or supreme court justices, yet they still had time to do genetic research in their basements. And, this research solved their child’s (or their own) mysterious condition. THESE are the people Lifetime movies are made of.

Conferences where a brilliant teacher or researcher knew what I needed to know – THE APPROACH I needed to learn. THE information that would improve my daughter’s quality of life. This teacher had all of 45 minutes to present, however, and I needed 3 to 5 years of mentoring/modeling in my home to understand it.

(I mean, what is a little hair sample between conference attendees? And, what if I had been able to kidnap or clone them? Now there’s your Lifetime movie right there, folks. We could even have been an HBO series. Maybe Dame Judy Dench or Tony Shalhoub would have played me. I’ve been watching Monk again recently. The man is a treasure.)

Either way, I would go into a conference bright eyed and hopeful. I’d see a few presentations. I would start to feel frustrated and overwhelmed. I’d slink away to a quiet spot somewhere to call my husband. I’d call (maybe crying a little bit) and tell him how much we don’t know, how much we aren’t doing, how I am failing as a parent and a human being, how everyone else gets it and I just don’t and what’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with you that you married me – you get the drift.

After listening as patiently as possible, Robb would inevitably threaten to change the locks on our front door if I continued to go to conferences as a form of self-punishment.

This is fair. (Uncool, but fair.)

It was just that – to me – it felt as though everyone else knew what they were doing. If I could just learn what THAT was, our lives would run smoother, my daughter would make more progress faster and easier, maybe we’d sleep a little. What was I doing wrong?

While the problem surely wasn’t with the events or presenters, it was with me, I still felt isolated and incompetent.

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The Early Connections Conference has a lot of support to offer. I wanted my presentation to be a positive experience for any other conference groupies.

To be clear, I am no expert on anything. And, I don’t have time to be kidnapped. We couldn’t afford the ransom; we have a kid with special needs.

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I may never again get the chance to address a crowd of parents who are just where I was a decade or so ago.

What would I want someone to say to me?

Image: A woman who hasn’t slept in 18 months smiles wearily at the camera. She is holding the hand of her blond toddler in glasses. The toddler leans up against her.

HEY YOU. Yes, you – the tired woman leaning against the counter in a dark kitchen cramming Baked Lays into your mouth at 3 a.m. You are standing in the dark, staring straight ahead, seeing nothing. You hope chewing will drown out the sound of your baby screaming upstairs. You just came down to take a break. You’ve been trying to console her for half an hour, 2 hours, 4 hours – depends on the night. You are beyond exhausted. You are numb. Wrung out. The only thing that makes sense is chewing fistfuls of chips and remembering to breathe.

You aren’t thinking straight, so may I suggest taking a shower? You haven’t had one in 3 days. Believe me, she will still be screaming when you get out.

You are numb, but somewhere in a tiny corner in your mind where your emotions are stuffed, you are scared that this is what your life is going to be from now on. That you will never have a solid night of sleep again. You are worried and so scared. There is so much you don’t understand. You want to scream. Or, more accurately, if you had enough energy you would seriously consider it. At times, you are stunned that you can produce that many tears. But, you are past that right now. You are aching to find a quiet hole to crawl into but your worry and your love wouldn’t let you rest even if you did.

HEY YOU. You will get through this. You won’t be the same. That can be a good thing. There are many of us who have gotten through this. We have stories to tell. And so will you.

You will be a more vulnerable yet tougher (if that makes sense) version of yourself. You will laugh louder and take yourself far less seriously. Years of living outside your comfort zone will give you the gift of not caring what other people think. (You may even start a blog! How crazy is that?) Your kitchen floor will often be filthy. You just won’t care.

You will find yourself filled with so much gratitude for the kindness and patience bestowed on you and your girl on a daily basis.

You will find yourself with far less patience for incompetence, below average medical staff, and uninspired teachers.

You will be startled by the haggard woman in the mirror from time to time, but you know she is doing the best that she can.

You will learn that people really do help when they can. Sometimes they just can’t. Even when you ask. As a result, you will learn that you can hear the word “no” and – surprise – the world will not fall apart. You will be broken down and broken open – by life circumstances, by other people’s perspectives, by the enormity of the love you never imagined until you became a parent, and by the responsibility that goes along with it.

You will learn that you can take a hit. You can take a hit, get back up and get on with it. You are stronger than you ever imagined. This is not a meme someone posted to make you feel better for 10 seconds. This is the reality of living through challenge after challenge and standing up to love and to try again the next day. That is your truth.

Yes, she is really is a complicated kid. When she was born, you moved right out of any comfort zone you had grown used to and into the perpetual discomfort of the unknown. Unknown diagnoses, unknown potential, unknown ability, no support group for your puzzle kid.

So, no, you are not doing it wrong. It is really hard. It is a lot to learn.

You will learn over time that kids with vision loss, especially CVI, are complicated. CVI does not stand alone. The population of children with vision loss has changed over the years. Thanks to advances in modern medicine, our premature babies, babies who have medical crises, and puzzle babies like Eliza, are surviving. These babies often have multiple diagnoses. They are surviving and thriving!

This is a cause for celebration (after we’ve all had a 2 year nap and some early intervention services. I am an optimist and a realist.)

Because of this, however, we are all running to catch up to their needs – to learn how they communicate, how they learn, how to help them see.

And, NO, she doesn’t sleep! (Have I mentioned that before?) And, yes, that stinks. It is cruel and unusual.

It is overwhelming.

(A piece of advice: You know how they say don’t make any major life decisions when you are in crisis?

Don’t go to the hairdresser on a whim and ask for something completely different. Just don’t. You WILL end up with orange hair and it WILL NOT “compliment your complexion” no matter what anyone says. They are just saying that because you’ve been wearing the same sweatpants for 4 days and they feel sorry for you.

It had to be said.)

HEY YOU. This girl.

Image: A blue eyed baby wearing a bib with pink flowers stares into the camera.

She will bring the BEST people into your life. The. best. people.

There will be some crummy ones too, but they never stay long because she takes some work. We don’t have time for them anyway.

Life with her is intense. It is real. It can be boring. It can change on a dime. You will get better at this. It will still be difficult some days. Being a parent is difficult some days, period. It is not for sissies.

This girl.

Image: A chubby cheeked baby reclines in a blue bouncy chair

She finds joy in the places you forgot to look.

Be with her. Learn from her. The bond you establish with her now just by being present and loving her unconditionally is the foundation to every future success.

And, the best part is that this is the best part! It is supposed to easy. It is.

There is no doubt that therapy is important. Doctor’s visits are important. Second and third opinions are important,

HOWEVER,

Remember that day when the OT cancelled? It was in the summer when Eliza wasn’t even a year old and Anna Cady was a curly haired toddler? You were relieved when the appointment was cancelled. For a moment, THE schedule lifted. The OT, PT, Development Therapy, the vision lady who came but didn’t understand CVI. For a moment, it all just stopped.

Image: Bright blue sky with white clouds

On that afternoon you took a blanket out in the backyard. You and the girls stretched out on the blanket. The grass was cool on your feet in the shade of the jacaranda tree in full fuschia bloom. You and Anna Cady looked up at the sky and watched the clouds drift by. Eliza didn’t see the clouds, but she was lying between two of her favorite people. She felt a warm breeze on her face. She smelled the blossoms. She heard your voices as you giggled and pointed out the shapes of animals shifting in the clouds above. She was included. It was simple and fun. Just the three of you enjoying each other’s company.

Remember that?

DO THAT MORE. Do not take any of this for granted. Slow down, sister. This time is so important. Enjoy her. Let her enjoy you. There is more to see here if you take the time to look. You don’t have to do all the time. She is who she is. Let her show you who she is.

Image: Two little girls, a bald blue eyed grinning baby and a wide eyed toddler smiles for the camera.

She is not broken.

You are, a little bit.

She loves you in spite of your broken parts.

She and her sister will help you put them back together again in ways you never imagined.

Hello fellow families of marvelous children who have a diagnosis of cortical visual impairment!

On Saturday, April 28th, Perkins School for the Blind held its 35th annual Early Connections Conference. The all day event offered “parents and professionals throughout New England” the opportunity “to network, share ideas and strategies for helping children with visual impairment from birth to age 7.” (www.perkins.org)

Image: A poster for the Early Connections Conference

I had the pleasure of attending the conference this year. According to Perkins’ Director of Community Programs and Conference Chair, Teri Turgeon, this year’s attendance totaled 106 parents and 38 professionals (including teachers of the visually impaired, speech therapists, and occupational therapists).

Even though my daughter is almost 12-years-old, I still have a lot to learn. I found it hard to choose between the variety of presentation topics from the Expanded Core Curriculum to Issues with Complexity in CVIto What about the Dads? From Has your child had a low vision evaluation? toCVI: Assessment, strategies, and implementation across the dayto Strategies and resources to support children who are deafblind. And more!

(I went with Expanded Core Curriculum and CVI Complexity as these are two important pieces of the ongoing development of Eliza’s IEP and, really, her life.)

Historically, Perkins has been and continues to be the leader in educating children with ocular and cortical visual impairments. With the Early Connections Conference, Perkins is a leader in supporting the families as well.

It was a warm and sunny Saturday in Boston. The lawns on Perkins campus were green with new growth thanks to rain the day before. Outside the Lower School Building, picnic tables and a bouncy house had been set up. Inside, Perkins staff and volunteers were ready to hand attendees their welcome bags and help parents get their children involved in the day’s activities. Vendors (including the Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment Society) displayed information and products in the school auditorium where parents and professionals could browse while helping themselves to a continental breakfast. (Well played, Perkins. I have never met a bagel I couldn’t learn to love.)

Tables set up in the Perkins auditorium. The PCVI conference materials, a display with children’s faces and a table with a black tablecloth and a white drape with the PCVI logo over it. A group of people stand at the table to the right speaking to another vendor.

Ed Bosso, the Superintendent of Perkins School for the Blind, and Teri Turgeon welcomed the families. Ed shared that, despite a long career in special education, becoming the parent of a child with a visual impairment was a challenge for him. He found comfort and information at a previous Early Connections Conference. For him, attending the conference and meeting other families, meant you will “never feel alone again.”

Teri Turgeon (also the parent of a young adult with a visual impairment) told the attendees that she hoped the conference helped them “fill their cups.” She explained that there are experiences in your life that are intersections and the choices you make can change the direction of your life. She hoped that the conference would be an intersection for families to move forward.

Image: A drawing of the words “We’ve Got This” held up by a group of women. One woman holds a baby. Another baby sits on top of the words holding a rattle in his raised hand.

Thanks to illustrator extraordinaire, Ian Christy for this fun take on the conference theme

The educational aspect of this conference was a big draw for me, but, what made my heart happy was seeing all of the children. A little girl in a pink t-shirt and holding a white cane expertly navigated in and out of a crowded elevator. Volunteers in red t-shirts took children for walks and painted faces. In one room, a table of little girls, all bright colors, elbows, and ponytails, drew pictures while a grinning little boy tossed a ball with a teenager, or, rather, near the teenager. The game seemed to be more fun to the boy if the young man had to chase the ball.

One young mother was hesitant about leaving her infant daughter in the nursery. I overheard Teri tell the worried mom that when she (Teri) brought her daughter to this conference years earlier she had never even left her daughter with her grandparents. Hearing this conversation, I remembered the strong urge to get an occasional moment away from the never-ending responsibilities of being the mom of a baby with special needs. And, I remembered the equally strong worry that something would happen if I wasn’t with her. In the first year, the only person I eventually left Eliza with was my mother, a retired nurse – after I had checked her references, of course. You can never be too sure.

The children! That’s why we were there! That’s why we are learning as fast as we can and asking questions and reading articles and advocating in schools and beyond.

I got to meet Savannah and her mom, Lacey (Moms on Monday #18 is a loving tribute to a beautiful girl and her dedicated mom). I got to meet Adam and his parents, Lara and Todd. (Lara assured me she will be a Mom on Monday someday. This is in no way a blatant attempt to persuade her to answer those questions I sent her. Not. At. All.) These pictures were taken at the end of a long day and both kiddos were ready to go home. They were very patient to let us take pictures. Adam gave me a very polite High 5.

Image: A curly haired girl with glasses in a wheelchair between two smiling women

Image: A dark haired boy, sitting in a chair, leans over the tray of his chair. His father kneels behind the chair with his arm draped over the back while his mother leans in on the boy’s left. Both parents are smiling. And, the mother has promised to be a Mom on Monday.

I will follow Adam’s lead and give you my own cyber High 5 to conclude this post.

More to come on the information given and stories shared at Early Connections 2018.

Hello fellow families of beautiful children who happen to have a diagnosis of cortical visual impairment!

I had the great joy to attend the Early Connections Conference at Perkins School for the Blind yesterday.

There will be posts to follow.

In the meantime, I wanted to be sure to mention a recommendation that the CVI Teacher, Ellen Mazel, gave during a presentation about complexity. She recommended that people interested in learning about what it is like to live with CVI watch a YouTube video posted by an adult with CVI, Nicola McDowell.

Parents, we need to watch this video. We are on the frontlines of educating the medical and education communities.

This is a video you can easily send to your pediatrician and your school team with the information that CVI is the #1 pediatric visual impairment in the U.S. and the first world countries.

Nicola McDowell has done all of our families a great service in describing the anxiety in her life caused by cortical visual impairment. I was fascinated by her description of what she sees, and how she has to strategize future social occasions to avoid becoming overwhelmed.

I had a post lined up for today. Then I learned late last week that a friend of mine, Melissa Keller, died after a long battle with ovarian cancer.

Today, in Bloomington, Indiana, her family and friends are going to meet at the local Unitarian Universalist church to celebrate her. She should be celebrated far and wide.

I do not live in Indiana anymore. I am sitting here in Virginia with an ache in my heart and a smile on my face as I think of Melissa.

I did not get to know her for as long a time as some of her friends. She actually reached out to me 5 or 6 years ago. She was a professor at Indiana University who taught early childhood courses. She read in the local paper about the work I was doing with an agency called Visually Impaired Preschool Services to bring early intervention for infants and toddlers with blindness in Indiana. She had convinced IU to rent a bus and had taken her early childhood class on a field trip 2 1/2 hours away to Louisville, Kentucky where the VIPS office and preschool facility is.

She emailed me after the fact. I was surprised and amused that a bus full of Hoosiers showed up on VIPS’ doorstep. I had known nothing about it.

She and her students toured the facility. They observed some of the preschool classes. She appreciated the reverse inclusion model at VIPS where typically sighted peers attend classes geared toward children with vision loss. Everyone benefits from a more tactile approach. Everyone learns empathy. Everyone is celebrated for who they are and for what they can do. Everyone learns at their own pace. Simple as that.

She wrote me a complimentary email after the tour and invited me to speak to her classes which I did. She wanted her students to become aware of the possibilities of a career in early intervention. After a presentation one year her classes made tactile toys and books for the VIPS welcome bags we provided to new families.

Melissa and I had known each other for a few years when she sent me a Christmas card. In the card, she wrote that it had just occurred to her that I may not know she had a connection to a famous woman I mentioned sometimes when explaining the urgent need for improving educational services to blind children. She included a copy of a picture of Helen Keller. On the picture, in square neat letters on the lower right corner was a note to a family member (I can’t remember the name. I think it was a cousin.) and signed, Love, Helen Keller.

I was honestly stunned. Her last name was Keller, for Pete’s sake, but I had never even thought to make the connection. We talked a little about the family a couple of times and that was that.

I wondered if her distant relative was a factor in her interest in VIPS.

It is possible although she had a long career as a champion for children as a teacher, principal, and professor in her own right.

Melissa Keller was a loving mother, grandmother, daughter, wife, friend, and teacher. She was also a terrific writer. Her CaringBridge site kept her fans entertained and informed as she and her husband, Thomas, traveled all over the world in a modern day hero’s journey to keep cancer at bay. She made us laugh while our hearts broke.

She wrote a book about her experiences with her husband’s family called Crazy is Relative. It is funny and bittersweet and very revealing about how people are shaped by their experiences in ways we cannot know unless we tell our stories.

I just wrote that Melissa Keller “was”. I am struggling with that.

She is. She remains in my thoughts and in my heart.

She liked to end her Caring Bridge posts with lyrics from songs she loved or was listening to at the time. Here are some of my favorite lyrics with Melissa in mind and in heart.

Did you know that there is a weekly teleconference call for families of children with CVI on Tuesday nights?

This weekly call has been a source of knowledge and comfort for families like ours. The moderator of this call is a kind and wise woman named Judith Millman.

I asked Judith about the history of this teleconference call that has been a lifeline to families across America for 11 years.

Why did the call come about?
The original idea for the Telephone Support Groups came from Dr. Alan Morse, the President of the Jewish Guild for the Blind (now LighthouseGuild). He felt that there were parents of children with visual impairment all over, particularly in rural parts of the country, who were isolated with no support systems in place and that the Guild had the resources and contacts to play a constructive role in their lives. About ten different vision conditions were targeted but CVI, being the single largest cause of children’s visual impairment became one of the first groups that was started (in 2007). It continues to be the largest telesupport group (by far) that LighthouseGuild sponsors.

How did you get involved? What is your background?
I am a social worker by training and worked most of my career in vision services. I started at the Lighthouse in Westchester Co. (White Plains, NY) as a social worker. By the end of my 30 year career there, I was the VP for the Lighthouse in the Hudson Valley, overseeing services for consumers in 7 counties. When I was about to retire, a colleague of mine, Dan Callahan, who was hired by the Guild to start the telesupport program, recruited me to facilitate the CVI group which was just about to be launched.

What are some common questions?
How can I get appropriate services for my child? The school district doesn’t seem to know much about CVI. Can you recommend an ophthalmologist who knows about CVI–mine doesn’t and told me that my child is blind. Where can I find a TVI and an O&M who really understand CVI? How can I help my child learn to use his/her vision? What strategies are helpful?

Have questions changed over the years?
I’m afraid that the questions haven’t really changed over the years. A positive factor is that more information is available via the literature, websites, distance learning courses, etc.

What are common themes in CVI that you don’t see going away – or that are increasing?
The tremendous role that parents have to take on to advocate for appropriate services–even more difficult in light of shortages in the field of TVIs and O&Ms.

What would you want parents of children with CVI to know?
You’re not alone.

CVI is the leading cause of visual impairment of children in the US. There are resources available, including a telesupport group, distance learning courses through Perkins School for the Blind, Dr. Roman’s book, webinars, etc.

If you are interested in joining the CVI teleconference call, email judithmillman@aol.com.

Thank you to Dr. Alan Morse for a wonderful way for families to create community across the miles.

Hello fellow families of children who have CVI and deserve a free and appropriate education (FAPE!),

As you blaze your child’s personal trail in your local school system, I hope it is an easy trail to blaze.

I hope your school has ample educators who have heard of Cortical Visual Impairment. I hope these educators (and support staff) understand how children with CVI are NOT incidental learners (See blog post on Incidental Learning if you are unfamiliar with this term. It’s important.)

I hope your child has access to a Teacher of the Visually Impaired who is a Perkins-Roman CVI Endorsee.

I hope that TVI has a small caseload and can devote the time it takes to train your child’s educational staff and to modify the materials your child needs to have ACCESS to her curriculum and her school environment.

While I’m hoping, let’s just add a Certified Orientation and Mobility Specialist (COMS) who is also a Perkins-Roman CVI Endorsee. And, let’s hope that COMS also has a small caseload of students and ample time to help your child navigate and make sense of her physical environment.

I hope your child’s teacher and support staff have ample time to make and modify materials since your child needs to have ACCESS to learning on a daily basis… like any other child.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that my hopes haven’t been realized yet.

For the sweeping changes in educational policy that need to occur for children with cortical visual impairment to finally have access to learning, parents will need to reach out to legislators at all levels of government.

Talking points:

There is a national shortage of teachers of the visually impaired.

There is a national shortage of Certified Orientation & Mobility Specialists. (You may have to explain what that is.)

There is a national shortage of teachers trained to teach the children with the #1 pediatric visual impairment in America, Cortical Visual Impairment. (You’ll definitely have to explain this one.)

For children with Cortical Visual Impairment, vision can improve. It is absolutely critical that children get diagnosed early and receive early intervention services from providers who understand CVI.

Many states do not provide vision-specific early intervention for infants and toddlers with vision loss, including Cortical Visual Impairment.

Our children cannot wait any longer for our education system to catch up to CVI.

Visiting your local school board meeting and asking them about shortages of teachers of the visually impaired and a lack of educators trained to work with children with CVI can get the ball rolling. It can start an uncomfortable conversation, but it’s a conversation that needs to be started.

It will require sitting through school board meetings, but, as a CVI parent, you have sat through far worse experiences. (Just a guess. For me, it was Eliza’s “sleep” studies or, more accurately, “cranky-all night-Mom-wrestling sessions.” )

Mark Richert, Director of Public Policy at AFB (American Foundation of the Blind) has a couple of suggestions for parent advocates.

Find your representatives and reach out to them before you need them.

Some folks don’t know who their local, state, and federal officials are.

Open a line of dialogue with the people who work for your local representatives. They are moms and dads just like us. They care about children. They care about their constituents.

Before a big “ask,” it is a good idea to get to know your officials and the people in their offices.

You can can call their local or D.C. offices and ask to speak to the staffer who works on special education issues. Then, introduce yourself and mention a few talking points, or read from the example below.

An example email:

Dear Sen. Washington,

I am one of your constituents. I appreciated ___________________________ (something positive about your representative’s work).

I wanted to take a moment to reach out to you to tell you that I am the parent of a child with special needs and vision loss. My daughter has cortical visual impairment, the #1 pediatric visual impairment in America.

(You can share more of your personal story and include a picture.)

I wanted you to know that issues surrounding the education of children with special needs and sensory loss are very important to me and my family.

I hope we can count on your continued support of our children.

Thank you for your service,

Thomas Jefferson

Someone from the office will write you back. Then, you have a contact. You can direct future issues and questions to this person. If you are going to be in town, you can request a visit with your representative. By establishing a relationship, you are laying the foundation to effective future advocacy.

(Sidenote: You may think it takes a lot of people emailing about a topic to get someone’s attention. Not so. When legislators get more than 3 emails or phone calls about one subject they take note. Every call, every email counts.)

Mark suggested cc’ing your elected officials on emails regarding your child’s educational experiences. This can help our legislators understand the scope of what we are facing when our children with CVI enter the school system. It will certainly get the attention of your educational team. I haven’t done this yet. If you do, let me know what happens. I’m intrigued.

P.S. I’ve heard that it’s better to take taxis rather than Uber or Lyft when you are going to advocate on Capitol Hill. Taxis are plentiful in D.C. and street addresses are tricky. It can be hard for an Uber or Lyft to find you.

Image: Edna Mode from The Incredibles stands with her arms above her head and yells “Go! Confront the problem! Fight! Win!”

Good evening, fellow CVI families! It’s still Monday! We here at CVI Momifesto like to keep you on your toes.

Today I heard a quote that resonated with me.

“Anger is inevitable. It’s what you do with it that counts.”

This quote made me think of the CVI moms who are organizing and moving mountains for their children.

Jasper’s mom, Brenda, is getting a lot done with her anger. I salute her.

If you have done any research on cortical visual impairment online or on social media, you have probably found the blog Start Seeing CVI and the companion Facebook page. You may have heard about a CVI Advocacy Call recently hosted by the American Foundation for the Blind – the first national conference on advocacy for children with cortical visual impairment. (Editor’s sidenote: This call was a big dang deal.)

If you were on Facebook this month you may have seen this –

Image reads April is CVI Literacy Awareness Month

You may also have run across pictures of remarkably attractive children and their mothers wearing this t-shirt.

And, what if I told you all of these amazing efforts were the result of one dynamic, unstoppable mom?

Yes, it’s Jasper’s mom, Brenda from Washington. She graciously answered questions I asked her about Start Seeing CVI, the motive behind the famous t-shirt, and just how she was able to make April CVI Literacy Awareness Month and September CVI Awareness Month.

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Why I started Start Seeing CVI

When you are raising a child who has cortical visual impairment (CVI), the lack of awareness, and education, and knowledge of CVI is one of the hardest lessons. My son Jasper was diagnosed with “cortical blindness” at one week old. The birth to three experience was spent learning about CVI and explaining it to his many providers. For a short time, as a baby, he had a “vision educator,” who was trained to identify a vision issue and knew a little about CVI but not nearly enough. Through birth to three years, my son never had a regular teacher of the visually impaired (TVI), and we live in a major city, Seattle. In a way, it was better, because his early intervention team was willing to learn and listen to me and there was no TVI ego to contend with. That changed with his transition to the public school system.

The original Start Seeing CVI t-shirt was created in 2014 during Jasper’s first full year of preschool. He was in Phase II CVI, as scored by Christine Roman. His TVI did not want to make any modifications to materials to give visual access to my son with CVI. It did not help that the young special education teacher backed him up. When doing anything with Jasper, you have to think of his cortical visual impairment first. You have to think about the CVI ten characteristics first. How could the school team not see that? And how could I get them to think about his CVI? Do I need to send to him to school with a note pinned to his shirt every day?

And so I created the t-shirt. How could they miss it now?

Image: A boy lying down with his arms covering his face wearing a Start Seeing CVI t-shirt

The Start Seeing CVI blog came a little later, from that same place. It evolved from my original blog – writing about the experience of raising a child with special needs – to writing increasingly about having a child with cortical visual impairment.

Nobody knows about CVI because nobody is talking about CVI. Nobody is talking about our kids.

Look around, on social media, nobody is talking about CVI. You can find Helen Keller quotes and Braille topics by the dozen, but nothing on CVI. No CVI graphics or quotes or memes. The organizations that serve students who are blind and visually impaired, and are supposed to serve our kids with CVI too, are not talking about CVI. American Printing House for the Blind (APH) is a good example. To look at social media, at a place like APH, you would think that most people who are blind or visually impaired are Braille readers. But the reality is more like five to six percent. Cortical visual impairment is the leading cause of visual impairment in our kids; they comprise the biggest portion of the demographic. But nobody is talking about our kids with CVI.

Perkins School for the Blind is talking about CVI and asking the critical question, What more can we be doing for students with CVI? And that is likely due to a few things, including their relationship with Christine Roman.

CVI has been around for a few decades now, you can find it in the medical literature as far back as the early 1990s. Nobody knows about cortical visual impairment because nobody is talking about cortical visual impairment. I wanted to change that.

As I travelled around, attending CVI conferences and trainings and workshops (I do not take vacations) and meeting other parents, our stories were the same. My child’s providers have not heard of CVI. My child’s providers do not know enough about CVI. My child’s TVI is not knowledgeable about CVI. It was not just my experience, it was the universal experience of CVI parents all across the country. I hoped that writing about CVI, and writing about Jasper, might bring both better understanding and awareness of CVI.

There is also so much misinformation out there around CVI.

Especially some of the online groups that are supposed to be about support, I avoid them. Even some websites or CVI “fact sheets,” if you happen to be given one. It is so important that CVI parents have information, but it is even more important that the information be accurate.

Not everybody out there who is teaching you about CVI is qualified to do so. Stick with the experts, not the people who are trying to sell you something. Providing accurate information and resources is a huge priority on my blog. I have no interest in debates around cerebral vs cortical. It is an old argument and does not serve my son, or any family trying to get support for their child with CVI.

Why & how I was able to create two months of awareness

Since fall I had been trying to find a home for a CVI advocacy conference call. There were about six different conversations going on, with different people, parents, providers, and I wanted to get everybody together and on the same page.

American Foundation for the Blind (AFB) was willing to take a chance, and last month, in March, was the first ever national teleconference on improving education services for students with CVI.

Awareness and education and knowledge need to increase across the board – from diagnosis, to early intervention services, to public school, neurologists, occupational therapists, ophthalmologists, orientation and mobility specialists, pediatricians, physical therapists, special educators, speech language pathologists, and teachers of the visually impaired.

It has got to start with the university teacher preparation programs. I say that as a person who was enrolled in such a program, and they were not teaching cortical visual impairment or the CVI Range.

My son’s diagnosis of CVI is not optional, and teaching CVI is not optional.

On the AFB call, the universities made a lot of excuses, and yet the University of Massachusetts Boston is teaching CVI, and the CVI Range, and has a dedicated and required courses on CVI. So it is possible. My son deserves providers who are proficient in CVI, and so does every other child with CVI. And it has got to be somebody who will be at the IEP table. Our kids not only deserve this, they have a right to it.

At the same time, we are focused on APH. In January, APH posted on its social media account about their plans to “Make Big Things Happen” this year for students who are blind or visually impaired. And there was not one word about cortical visual impairmemt, and how they would “Make Big Things Happen” for students with CVI. I almost let it go – but instead I commented, What about our kids with CVI, you won’t even make the CVi Connect app a quota fund product for them. My comment did not go unnoticed. In a short time, MaryAnne Roberto commented from Pennsylvania, and Gunjan from Pennsylvania, and Anna from Ohio, and Riley from Oregon, and Rachel from Maryland, and Rebecca from Virginia. The comments from CVI moms kept coming.

A group of us came together around that experience. We are committed to improving things for our children with CVI. We are raising our parent voices on behalf of our kids.

And this is just the beginning.

If you are a parent or provider of a child with CVI and want to lend your voice, you can go to Start Seeing CVI Advocacy or the Start Seeing CVI Facebook page to learn more.

Image: A smiling boy in glasses and wearing a hat with a wide brim and striped shirt.

I posted recently on my frustration with the “formal” assessments therapists and educators have tried to use on my daughter over the years. (The long winded post, Death by IEP / Assessments and Access, has great quotes from experts in the field about the problems with assessments geared toward children with typical vision and hearing.)

I learned early on in Eliza’s life to politely tell evaluators where they could put the assessments which would inevitably result in a grim column of zeroes or checkmarked boxes of “no”. Right back in their briefcases, of course. Ahem.

(I call dibs on “Grim column of zeroes” for a band name. “Checkmarked boxes of no” sounds like the world’s worst cereal. Nothing like the flavor of failure to start the day.)

The grim column of zeroes represents the failure of formal assessments to accurately gauge the abilities of children with sensory loss. It does not reflect their capacity to learn. It literally means nothing.

This has been a topic of conversation for CVI moms on Facebook recently. Probably because it is IEP season and we are all hunting resources for appropriate IEP goals for our kids. I am personally working on IEP goals that have higher expectations for my non-verbal kid who will wrap you around her finger with her cuteness, a method of sailing through life that has served her well so far.

Image: A girl smiling broadly swings at the park.

By asking around about the problem of assessments, it was suggested to me that I look into the work of Dr. Jan van Dijk. I thought I would pass along what I found.

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From Perkins eLearning: In the early 1960s, Dr. Jan van Dijk of the Netherlands was asked to assess children with sensory impairments and multiple disabilities.

He found that existing assessment tools were not useful because they assumed that the children had been exposed to typical experiences; and he felt that children with sensory impairments and multiple disabilities, due to the very nature of their impairments, had not had the opportunity to experience the world in a typical manner.

Dr. van Dijk dedicated his 50-year career to helping children who have multiple disabilities in addition to deafblindness. His child-guided strategies are recognized and used throughout the world.

What is child-guided assessment?

Child-guided assessment is a procedure to bring the best of the child to the surface.Children with multiple disabilities live in a fragmented world, often full of stress and anxiety.
The assessor wants to meet the child within this very peculiar world, to discover how learning in its broadest sense takes place. He tries to resonate with the child’s behavior by following the child’s lead.
When the child feels that he is controlling the situation, it is likely that he will open up and will follow the assessor’s suggestions for finding undiscovered paths for learning and emotional stability.

In my humble opinion, this is 29 minutes CVI moms need to watch to better understand why formal assessments don’t work and how to explain this to IEP teams. Dr. Jan van Dijk (who died last year) was an expert on working with children with multiple disabilities. And, as one CVI mom said to me recently, “CVI doesn’t stand alone.”

I felt as though I understood my complicated kid better after watching it. It’s important information and gives a glimpse into the way to reach our children.

It’s been a busy couple of weeks here at CVI Momifesto. Spring is conference season. Time for the experts in everything to get together in quaint or exotic places to compare notes, to share their research, and, maybe to learn a new trick or two.

It’s been a great conference season in terms of building momentum and raising awareness about the learning needs of children with CVI. Needs that continue to be unmet in most educational settings across the country.

(Then, it’s Spring Break, and all bets are off for writing any blog posts as your children run amok in your house demanding to be fed, nurtured, and challenged at board games. But I digress.)

So far this year, CVI was a hot topic at the American Association for Pediatric Ophthalmology and Strabismus. Also, several AER conferences admitted presentations by educators and parents about Cortical Visual Impairment. The Northeast AER conference included presentations on CVI (from Dr. Christine Roman-Lantzy, Ellen Mazel, and Peg Palmer among others) in each slot in their schedule. Virginia AER had several presentations including a parent’s perspective on the challenges of getting a Free and Appropriate Public Education (FAPE) for a child with CVI.

At the Pacific Northwest AER conference, MaryAnne Roberto, a CVI Endorsed Teacher of the Visually Impaired (Envision CVI Consulting), presented on Current Trends in CVI to standing room only crowds.

On March 15th, this CVI mom drove to St. Michael’s in Maryland for the DC / Maryland AER Conference to reach out to Teachers of the Visually Impaired and Certified Orientation and Mobility Specialists. Thanks to Karen Frank and the AER folks who allowed me the chance to talk up the urgent need for educators to get more training to help children with CVI build functional vision.

Image: Rob Hair, Michelle Horseman, and Karen Frank from the Maryland School for the Blind

Image: Dr. Michael Bina from the Maryland School for the Blind and Rebecca Davis

The Executive Director of AER, Lou Tutt, attended this conference and sat in on my presentation. When I suggested to the audience of teachers that they contact AER to tell them they support more training for TVI in Cortical Visual Impairment, I didn’t have to give Mr. Tutt’s email address. I just said, “There he is.” He was a great sport about it.

Image: Lou Tutt and Rebecca Davis

If you have any luck sharing your stories at a conference or a meeting of educators or doctors (or legislators… or anyone who will listen), send us your story! CVI Momifesto would love to expand the scope of both personal stories and adventures in advocacy.

Good morning fellow families of delicate chubby cheeked children who happen to have Cortical Visual Impairment,

This morning’s Mom on Monday is Savannah’s mom, Lacey. Savannah is leading her mom on a journey of joy, challenges, and education.

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Sweet Savannah Mae is my little six year old blessing. Oh, how I love everything about her. My journey in life is led by a little girl. She is paving the way. She is my tiny little teacher.

Image: A smiling young girl in glasses

It’s been six years since Savannah was diagnosed with cortical visual impairment. That day will forever be stamped in my heart. Savannah was diagnosed with cortical visual impairment at 8 months old. Before the diagnosis, I will never forget her six month appointment at our local ophthalmologist. We had been referred by Early Intervention because as our early interventionist put it, “It’s like the lights are on and nobody is home.” Yikes!! I’ll tell you I’m a lot stronger now and I would never stand for that insensitivity, ever. That was a different time and a fragile place so I just went along with the referral.

Our local ophthalmologist had real vision concerns and wanted to refer her to a specialist in Boston. Savannah had a normal eye exam but he thought she might be blind. But wait, she sees her spoon coming and opens her mouth for food and she loves to look at the mirror above her infant swing. She can see. She loves to look at the overhead lights and she knows exactly where they are, even if the lights are off. It went as far as her dad and me calling our overhead lights, “her friends”. Due to her hydrocephalus, I always thought her eyes were just a bit different. They were aligned by this age, at least mostly, and not in the sun setting position due to hydrocephalus. Little did I know at that time.

It had already been a busy eight months, six weeks spent in the NICU and the appointments that followed, all while try to juggle work as a “medical mama”. My little warrior girl had brain surgery at one day shy of one month. Our schedule was filled with appointments, follow up, and just maintaining her overall care. On February 1st, 2012, her dad and I arrived at Boston Children’s Hospital. When our appointment started, Savannah was brought into a room for a preferential looking test (PLT). This is a visual acuity test for young or nonverbal children. Black and white stripes are presented and as they get thinner, an evaluator will determine if the child is looking towards the striped pattern. They use the stripes as an acuity measure which is calculated based on the size of the stripes the child can locate.

Next was a VEP, also known as a visually evoked potential. This test records electrical activity in the vision portion of the brain. The patient is positioned in front of a computer screen with electrodes strategically placed on the patient’s head. The computer screen is a black and white checkerboard pattern. This test evaluates vision functioning in the retina-to-brain nerve pathway. Ophthalmologists might use this as a tool when considering the diagnosis of Cortical Visual Impairment (CVI). Not all children with suspected CVI have this as an option but we are fortunate enough to live in an area with advanced medical care.

Following testing, we met with a highly recommended ophthalmologist. She told us that our daughter was legally blind. She has “cortical visual impairment.” She told us, “We will register with Massachusetts Commission for the Blind and with Perkins School for the Blind.” I tried listening but all I heard was BLIND, not truly knowing the definition, not truly understanding how this could be. She had already been through so much in her short life.

The visit concluded with a prescription for glasses. Savannah was prescribed glasses due to her astigmatism and because she was farsighted. She was getting glasses!! At eight months!! I couldn’t decide to dance in excitement with the thrill of a new accessory or cry because she was a baby and I didn’t know a single baby that wore glasses. I do have to admit she looked adorable in her first frames that were entirely too large for her delicate chubby face.

Image: An infant wearing glasses

The ride home was rough and filled with tears. Mark drove, as I couldn’t contain my tears. I called my mom to tell her and I couldn’t even get out a word because I was crying so hard. As we pulled into our narrow drive, Mark’s emotions were also evident as he hit the side of the neighbor’s house. It was devastating for both of us to get this type of news. The tears continued for a week. And then suddenly, I decided to embrace my journey.

A little more about my sweet little girl. My love for her is something fierce. We share a special bond. She has defined me into who I am today. She is a happy but feisty little girl. She smiles with her entire body, especially to the tune of a xylophone. She fills every crevice of my human body with joy.
My life with Savannah has always seemed complex but normal. It’s my normal. It’s everything I know about motherhood. It is 100% normal to us, even when it might not seem normal to others.

At birth, Savannah suffered a grade 4 brain bleed, periventricular leukomalacia suggestive of hypoxic ischemic injury. Savannah has a diagnosis of hydrocephalus and had a VP shunt placed one day shy of a month old. At almost five years of age, Savannah was diagnosed with Ogden Syndrome, an extremely rare syndrome also known as a Naa10 mutation. I mean, she is a diamond in the rough. And this kid sparkles. Savannah is one of 18 in the world with her exact mutation and 1 of 29 with a variation of the Naa10 mutation at this current time.

But let’s get back to her vision. I remember reading Little Bear Sees, which I highly recommend to any parent of a child with CVI. I remember thinking by her current age she would have near normal vision. We are part of the CVI endorsement so I can’t talk about phases and scores but I can tell you, any child with CVI faces many obstacles. Her vision is anything but typical, but it is what she knows and what we know for her. We are working hard to help decrease the frustration that comes with low vision and nonverbal communication. Along with her vision, Savannah is equally as complex. At this current time, she is not sitting, walking, or talking.

She is happy and loved fiercely.
That is what matters most to me as her mommy.

As a mom, I’m hopeful. I TRY to put the best interventions in place. Savannah continues to make visual progress, especially if food and beverage are involved. She is great at locating objects in her environment using her peripheral fields. I am working hard, as her mom and her advocate, to help her start using her central vision. Her team at school is also working toward this goal. Savannah knows some routines, and she continues to make strides in every area of development. She is an amazing little girl and I am so blessed to be on this journey in life with my sweet Savannah Mae.

Image: A little girl in glasses playing with yellow blocks on a lightbox

Savannah has really inspired me to be the best I can be for her. This journey we are on led me to graduate school. I completed my Masters in Education and I now work as a TVI with the youngest children. I am also very close to becoming CVI endorsed. I absolutely love helping children learn to use their vision but also supporting their families during this fragile time.

Savannah has improved in every aspect of her life but she is on her own chart, in every single way. I once read from a blog I follow of another child with CVI, “she is just inching along”. This is a phrase I like to use now. Milestones are just so big and inchstones are much more appropriate.

Another mom in my Naa10 group wrote an article and hands down my favorite quote, “It’s like raising a giant question mark!” Yes, it totally is!!!

Thank you Lacey and Savannah Mae, this beautiful one-in-a-million girl! Your journey together is helping other families who face similar challenges.

Today’s Mom on Monday is Will’s mom, Maggie. Will has a smile that will brighten your day. Maggie has experience, wisdom to share and a “can-do” spirit that has taken them all over the country.

Introduction: Maggie, mom of Will, age 9. We live in Feasterville, Bucks County, a suburb of northeast Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

What does Will like to do? What makes him laugh? What are his favorite activities? What do you do as a family?

Will is a very happy, very social, very adorable redhead who has a smile that makes you smile when you see it. If you get him giggling you are certain to laugh, too. He has always loved music. I remember him lying on the hospital bed the day after he was born, all bundled and ready to make our journey home. Only his face was exposed. I put my face close to him and quietly sang “Somewhere over the Rainbow” to him. He quieted and just “stared” at me while I sang. From then, whenever he is fussing or restless, he will still quiet, or calm, when I sing to him.
We also loves water. He is very discerning though because the water must be warm. He wears his life jacket and we put ankle weights on, which allows him to bob in the water upright. He loves the freedom of kicking and moving in the water.

Image: Will in a life jacket with his dad in a pool

Another activity we do is traveling! This boy is very well-traveled. We estimate that he has visited 16 states and DC. He has traveled coast to coast and north to south on around 2 dozen flights in his action-packed 9 years. We decided early on that we would not let his challenges keep him from experiencing his world. He is a great traveler both by car or plane.

Image: Will, a smiling red haired boy

We travel with Will’s stuffed friend, Cordy Roy, who gets a photo shoot at every location we travel to.

Image: Will’s stuffed toy, Cordy Roy, next to a Bedford County sign

Image: Smiling Will in a wheelchair in a van

When did you first learn about CVI? How were you given the diagnosis?

We knew something was wrong when Will was about 1-month-old. He wasn’t tracking us with his eyes and he wasn’t smiling in response to our facial expressions. He had an unfocused stare. Not long after, we began our journey of discovery. After several tests, we found ourselves at the neuro-ophthalmologist at CHOP who gave us the official diagnosis of CVI. We were fortunate that he was diagnosed very early without any resistance from our neuro-ophthalmologist.

We began consulting with Dr. Roman early. We started seeing her every 6 months for a few years. Now we visit her annually. So, we were luckier than many and have known about CVI for a long time.

How was Will’s early intervention experience with regard to CVI?

We already had begun learning about what CVI meant through our early intervention TVI, MaryAnne Roberto. We were so fortunate that she was assigned to Will and had a lot of knowledge about CVI. She pointed out Will’s behaviors that supported the diagnosis. She helped us create an environment that accessed Will’s vision. She was also instrumental in linking us to Dr. Roman in Pittsburgh. We started seeing her every 6 months for a few years. Now we visit her annually. With our neuro-ophthalmologist, MaryAnne, and Dr. Roman, our knowledge of CVI and the world of accommodations began.

Image: Will with Dr. Roman-Lantzy and his dad

Does Will have other diagnoses you’d like to mention?

Will lived in the land of “undiagnosed” for the first 5 years. We had many diagnoses – global developmental delay, seizure disorder, failure to thrive requiring a feeding tube, non-verbal, non-ambulatory, CVI, hypotonia, microcephaly, cataracts – but no overarching name of the cause.

Genetic testing in first year was inconclusive. When he was 5, we decided to revisit genetic testing. In March of 2014, we received the call that our son has a rare genetic disorder called FOXG1syndrome.

FOXG1 syndrome is a spontaneous genetic mutation that affects approximately 300 children in the world. Neither Will’s father nor I have this error, but when we looked at the characteristics of the syndrome – love of water, love of music, CVI, feeding issues, seizures – Will’s picture could have been posted next to the definition. A diagnosis at last!

It did not change our interventions, but it did give us a group of parents who are also living with the consequences of FOXG1.

How is CVI being addressed in Will’s school setting?

CVI in school has been a different story from our early intervention experience. Our early intervention team embraced the CVI interventions that MaryAnne shared so generously. It hasn’t been so easy in school. The vision team is not educated in CVI. They have been resistant to learning about it and adapting Will’s materials. After 2 years with few adaptations and the purchase of a communication device by the school district, we have finally put our feet down and said enough is enough. They cannot continue to work without making vision a priority. So this year’s IEP reflects a lot of changes. With the assistance of an advocate, we had a CVI endorsed TVI come in and complete a new CVI Range. The score on the range revealed a loss of visual literacy. That led to new goals and a significant increase in vision service time. Sadly, the vision team still does not share my sense of urgency. This is an ongoing source of friction. It’s heartbreaking since we really want to have a better relationship with our TVI and Will’s vision team.

What would you tell a mother whose child has just been identified with CVI?

I would say two things to other moms.

First, do not give up. Do not despair. Your child knows your voice and your touch. He/she knows you even though they don’t seem to acknowledge you. With time and training, your child WILL see you.

It was a momentous day when Will looked at me and “saw” me! He now has more than 12 feet of functional vision and can most likely see farther.

The second thing I want parents to remember is to presume competence! I have found over and over that Will surprises me with what he knows and can do! Set the bar high, work hard, and be amazed with what your child will do!!!

What would you like for people who have never heard of CVI to know?

Other people should know that CVI is a vision impairment that is neurologic in nature. With time, patience, and specific interventions and accommodations, vision can be improved! If a child can achieve a certain place on the CVI Range, he/she may sight read. If that is achieved anything is possible for that child!

What are your hopes and dreams for Will?

Our goal for Will is to be the best Will he can be! We don’t know what that is yet, but he is still full of possibilities! We will continue to work and help him achieve his greatness!!!

Image: Smiling Will wearing a Start Seeing CVI t-shirt

Thank you Maggie for sharing your journey with your handsome, red haired, well traveled young man! He IS full of possibilities!

The annual conference for Pediatric Ophthalmologists from all over America and around the world has ended. From one mother’s perspective, volunteering at the conference was an education in itself.

CHAMPIONS

For the first time, the Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment Society had a table in the AAPOS (American Association for Pediatric Ophthalmology and Strabismus) exhibit hall.

The Pediatric CVI Society is the one organization in America focusing on raising awareness about CVI and advocating for improvement in medical and educational outcomes for children with CVI. It is a 501 c3 non-profit organization driven by membership and donor funding. HINT HINT (www.pediatriccvisociety.org)

The PCVI table was around the corner from the Perkins School for the Blind table. Perkins has become a leader in moving education about CVI forward for providers and families. (www.perkinselearning.org/cvi)

Carol Kinlan from Perkins and I referred interested doctors to each other’s tables. It was very encouraging to have another champion for children with CVI in the exhibit hall. Not only is there strength in numbers, there is momentum in numbers.

And, there was yet another champion for children with CVI raising awareness and creating traffic at the PCVI and Perkins exhibit tables.

Dr. Sharon Lehman, a Pediatric Ophthalmologist from Nemours Hospital in Delaware, generated interest among the attendees with her scientific poster presentation on a survey she sent out to pediatric ophthalmologists and teachers of visually impaired.

Here is some of the information from this poster presentation. CVI families may find this particularly interesting.

An email study was distributed to the 2 groups via their two respective national organizations (AAPOS and AER). The survey contained questions about the following:

Frequency of seeing children with CVI

Adequacy of education about CVI during training

Comfort with making diagnosis

Adequacy of communication from the pediatric ophthalmologist

Comfort with making recommendations

Referral of patients for services

Interest in receiving further education about CVI

RESULTS

The response rate for pediatric ophthalmologists was 8.0%.

The response rate for TVI was 14.8%.

A significant gap was identified in opinion of the adequacy of communication from the pediatric ophthalmologist to the care team.

Communication was deemed adequate by 61.9% of pediatric ophthalmologist respondents while it was considered not adequate by 68.4% of TVI respondents.

The majority of respondents of both groups (80.5% of pediatric ophthalmologists and 85.8% of TVI) wished to learn more about CVI.

DISCUSSION

The survey highlights gaps in knowledge and attitudes concerning the care of patients with CVI that limit the effectiveness of the team’s patient care. The strong desire to learn more about CVI is a positive finding that bodes well for patients.

The relatively low response rate (8.0% of pediatric ophthalmologists and 14.8% of TVI) is a limitation. It may indicate that there is a core section of individuals within both provider groups interested in CVI who could develop expertise in providing services for children with CVI. The attitudes of the nonrespondents is unknown and could be valuable in interpreting the data.

CONCLUSION

Lack of standardized methods for evaluation and diagnosis and for providing recommendations for children with CVI create challenges for the care team. Improved clinical education of pediatric ophthalmologists and TVI and development of standardized tools that can provide the patient’s team with necessary information are practical ways to approach this problem.

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It was heartening to see research about CVI discussed by the medical community. We need our pediatric ophthalmologists to acknowledge CVI and to learn what to do when they identify a child with CVI. Dr. Lehman’s work is having a positive impact.

Challenges remain.

Here is what I heard from the majority of doctors who came to the PCVI Society table to get more information and resources for their patients and to join the email list.

“I see so many of these kids in my office.

I get so many of these kids.

I don’t know where to send them.

I don’t know what to give them.

CVI is scary.

I don’t know what to do with it.”

I am glad these doctors were willing to approach the PCVI Society table, and to admit that they need more information. I am glad that this year these doctors left with a list of resources and take away information about how to diagnose CVI.

Bravo to the doctors who are seeking out new information and who are not afraid to admit that they have more to learn. Bravo to the doctors who are seeking out a community for their patients. They are championing children with CVI as well. Someone should bake pies for these people!

Encouraging education and debate about Cortical Visual Impairment (Cerebral Visual Impairment, Neurological Visual Impairment, Rumplestiltskin – whatever term we are using today) is critical to the common goal of getting our children diagnosed more quickly and accurately.

To this mother’s untrained eye, it seems as though, until recently, when conversation about CVI turned into debate about which word follows the “C” – Cortical or Cerebral – the debate stopped. The opposing sides retreated to their camps and dug in until further notice.

This unyielding approach (from the jaded and sleep deprived eye of a mother who sat through too many hours of unsuccessful IEP meetings, so consider the source) does a disservice to doctors, teachers, families, and most importantly, children.

This approach has left many children sitting in classrooms without access to their educational environments. This approach has left many confused parents piecing together information from competing (?) sources in their individual attempts to educate the uninformed doctors and teachers in their child’s life. This “approach” is not an approach at all. It is static and unproductive.

Now on many fronts there is a willingness for an open exchange of ideas and research. Much of this openness has been fueled by the urgency of families who will wait no longer.

Every presentation, every poster, every question asked at an exhibit table brings us closer to our common goal.

Let’s keep our lines of communication open with our pediatric ophthalmologists and pediatric neuro-ophthalmologists. Next time you see your child’s doctor, you can mention the AAPOS conference. You can tell your doctor that CVI is becoming a hot topic and – just a thought – that you’d like your doctor to participate in the conversation. Even better, you two can have your own conversation.

Image: Dr. Sharon Lehman and Rebecca Davis standing in front of the exhibit table for the PCVI Society at AAPOS 2018

P.S. The conference hall NEVER got warmer or brighter. I decided the architect of the Washington Hilton was just a huge science fiction fan. (It is possible I had some time on my hands for random speculation while sitting and freezing at the table.)

This is important because it remains difficult for families of children newly identified with Cortical Visual Impairment to receive an actual diagnosis of CVI.

This is important because even if a doctor does diagnose CVI, she or he may not realize that CVI can improve with the appropriate interventions. She or he may not realize that education – for children, parents, caregivers, therapists, and teachers – is the key to improving a child’s functional vision.

They can’t fix CVI. So, many of them don’t address it. They are not SEEING CVI. (That one’s for you, Brenda Biernat. I’m wearing the shirt!)

This is the year, the PCVI Society begins to change the landscape of CVI in the medical community.

We have actual conference materials.

Image; An exhibit table covered by a black tablecloth and white drape with PCVI in large letters. Other exhibit materials promoting the PCVI Society.

Image: A low lit ceiling which may also be the inside of a alien ship. I just report ’em like I see ’em.

I have to mention that when CVI Mom Rachel and I were setting up yesterday, it was weirdly dark in here. There’s an alien/cave vibe happening. I thought for sure they’d turn up the lights for the actual conference. Not yet. We may take off any moment now for the general cosmos.

We have swag – Diagnosis cards and hard candy. (If that wasn’t the name of a punk band in the late 70’s, it should have been.)

Image: A gift box with candy spilling out on to a table covered by a black tablecloth.

We will see how I do here after 3 days. Maybe the low lighting is a deliberate move to calm the well documented frantic energy of pediatric ophthalmologists.

Carol Kinlan of the Perkins School for the Blind just came over to say hi.

Yesterday evening, March 14th, at 8:30, the American Foundation for the Blind hosted a panel of parents, educators, TVI, administrators of teacher training programs, and advocates to engage in a “spirited” national conversation concerning Special Education of Children & Youth with CVI. (I am deliberately using the initials CVI since AFB referred to the diagnosis as “Cortical Visual Impairment – what others refer to as cerebral visual impairment, and still others describe as neurological visual impairment.”)

Our moderator, Mark Richert, Esq., diplomatically came up with the following title for the call:

CVI = Consensus, Vision, and Initiative

As a parent, I have said before and I will say it again. I do not care what you call this diagnosis. You can call it, “Harold,” or “Pearl,” or “Jeff.” This attitude may seem flippant to researchers and educators and it is. CVI has lorded over our lives for over a decade and I’m not great with authority figures.

I care about finding the teaching methods that give my daughter (what?….Say it with me, folks!)ACCESS to her environment.

Image: A child wearing a backpack climbs on a school bus

My dream is that one day my daughter will get on a bus and go to a school where the teachers know more about CVI than I do. My dream is that one day I won’t have to worry about what is happening at school all day.

Is this likely to happen anytime soon? No, it is not likely to happen anytime soon.

But, I have to try. For Eliza. For every other child. For every other mom. I believe I can say the same for the other parents who are advocating in their personal lives and the parents who participated in last night’s call whether as a panelist or a caller.

Mark Richert gave each panelist a chance to speak. He made every effort to give callers a chance to comment or ask questions. This turned out to be a bigger task than expected as AFB had nearly 200 people call in. I don’t have the exact numbers but at last count we heard the AFB folks say 175 people wanted to participate in the call, both panelists and callers.

The panelists included:

Brenda Biernat – CVI Parent, Advocate, and Founder of StartSeeingCVI.com (and the mom who reached out to AFB to make this call happen. Bravo!)

It was a passionate conversation. I, for one, appreciated the fact that the professionals in the field of educating children who are blind or visually impaired were willing to listen to us and to each other.

Listening is an important first step.

We parents do have a lot to say. We have been waiting a long time for Cortical Visual Impairment to be taken seriously in the educational community. Many of us have stories about the CVI Range. We have stories about what we have learned by studying the work of Dr. Christine Roman-Lantzy and how it has changed our children’s lives for the better. We have stories of daily struggles and challenges, confusion and tears, low expectations for our children’s cognitive abilities, and lack of access to visual information being interpreted as “behavior issues.”

It is still hard for me to believe that despite Cortical Visual Impairment being the #1 pediatric visual impairment in first world countries, there remains so little consensus on how to educate these children.

It is time for things to change.

If, as Mark Richert and AFB have stated –

“Successful advocacy requires at least 3 key elements:

consensus about the problems and solutions,

a shared vision among stakeholders regarding the desired outcome,

and initiative on the part of committed change agents who are willing to play a long game while achieving milestones along the way” –

Then, yesterday’s conversation revealed a common concern for the education of children with CVI and parents revealed themselves as committed change agents extraordinaire.

What a great t-shirt idea! (AFB, I get 10% of net sales.)

I’m in for the long game, just don’t tell my daughter or she will make me play Monopoly. No one deserves that.

Good morning fellow families of lovable children who have Cortical Visual Impairment!

This morning’s Mom on Monday is Olivia’s mom, Dixie, from Kentucky. Dixie is a Teacher of the Visually Impaired for Visually Impaired Preschool Services (VIPS) in Kentucky. She provides early intervention to infants and toddlers with ocular visual impairments or Cortical Visual Impairment. She also provides support to their families who often struggle to understand their children’s diagnoses. Dixie has the unique perspective of experiencing a CVI diagnosis as a mother and of guiding other parents through their CVI experiences as an educator. She was kind enough to take time out of her schedule to speak to me while driving home from vacation.

Image: A smiling young girl and a woman in glasses.

What does Olivia like to do? What makes her laugh? What are some of her favorite things? Olivia is almost 14 years old and enjoys the things most teenagers enjoy. She loves watching movies and TV. Her favorite foods include hamburgers and spaghetti. She is not a fan of fruits or vegetables. Olivia loves gymnastics and tumbling. She loves playing outside. She loves her dog. She has a huge sense of humor. She is always smiling or giggling about something.

When did Olivia join your family? I had started providing foster care and was working as a Developmental Interventionist for First Steps (Kentucky’s early intervention system). Olivia’s biological mother was a drug addict. At 2 months old, Olivia had been rushed to the ER because of malfunctioning valves in her heart. She was pronounced dead at the hospital, but was resuscitated. She experienced oxygen deprivation during all of this. Afterward, Olivia entered foster care and was staying with a foster parent who was a friend of mine. They were waiting until Olivia was 6 months old to be able to perform surgery to fix the valves. My mentor kept telling me, “Your daughter is down the street.” I met her 10 days before surgery and fell in love with her. The adoption was finalized when she was 9 months old.

How was Olivia’s early intervention experience? We knew there was some brain damage because of her other diagnoses, Down syndrome and Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and heart failure. We did not know the impact it would have.Olivia rolled over at a typical age of 3 months, but she lost skills as a result of the surgery. At 9 months old, we started over. She essentially lost a year of her life at the beginning. She had developmental intervention, speech therapy, and occupational therapy. Olivia always loved to look at books in her developmental therapy. When she was a baby, she would watch Baby Einstein videos. CVI did not occur to me.

When did you first learn about CVI? I knew her vision was off. Over the years, we went to 3 or 4 different eye doctors. When she started kindergarten, they said she was a little farsighted. They said Olivia needed glasses, that all children with Down syndrome need glasses. Then, they said she needed bifocals, but she just kept looking over the top of them.

By this time, I was working as a Teacher of the Visually Impaired for VIPS. I asked for a Functional Vision Assessment at school. The school refused saying there was no diagnosis of legal blindness.

We went to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital and saw Dr. Robert North. He referred us to the Cincinnati Association of the Blind to do a Functional Vision Assessment. When they began testing, they started making modifications for CVI without explaining what the modifications were for. I recognized what they were doing, watched her respond, and realized that she had CVI.

Then, the lightbulbs started going off. I started to think about times when she was smaller and behaviors I did not understand.

Olivia had bad nystagmus as a baby. She never crawled outside of the living room except for one time when I was vacuuming. She ventured out to follow the vacuum all over the house. Until then, she would not go out of the living room – the familiar environment she knew.

How were you given the diagnosis?The Cincinnati Association of the Blind sent their report to Dr. North at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. He gave us the diagnosis. He was the first doctor we had seen who took the time to look at Olivia’s history and not blow us off.

How has CVI been addressed in Olivia’s school setting?When we came back with Dr. North’s diagnosis of CVI, she automatically qualified for vision services and federal quota funding.

Despite our trip to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital and our prescription from Dr. North, the school’s TVI informed me that Olivia didn’t have CVI. The TVI announced that Olivia was colorblind.

I told her, “You’re not an eye doctor.”

I had not told the school system that I was a Teacher of the Visually Impaired and that I was aware of the laws that regulated education for children with visual impairments.

I provided the first lightbox to Olivia’s school. I borrowed it from VIPS. As soon as they figured out it was working, they ordered one for their school.

It had taken a year to get the CVI diagnosis and to get the school system to recognize that Olivia was visually impaired. By the first day of school in 1st grade, she qualified for “vision services,” but I don’t know how much vision support she got.

We eventually went to see Dr. Roman because Olivia was in Phase III and folks didn’t know what to do with the higher levels of CVI. Dr. Roman helped me realize that some of Olivia’s communication delays were really related to CVI. She would often mix up the pronouns “him” and “her.” Olivia would sometimes look at a girl with short hair and say “him.” Dr. Roman explained that it is hard for children with CVI to figure out the details that define people and their gender.

Her school experience at the time was frustrating. For 2 years, she had the same list of 15 sight words because she wasn’t learning all of them. We lost a lot of time with this because the school didn’t realize that a word has to have meaning to Olivia for her to learn and to recognize them.

She learned words like “mom” and “dog” because she has a mom and a dog in her life.

Little words like “a,” “an,” and “the” don’t have meaning. “It” was on the list. How do you define “it”? “This?” How do you explain the word “This?” And, you don’t really need the word “The.”

The longest word on the list, “friend,” was the one she learned because it had meaning for her. It had a clear definition she could understand.

In teaching reading, I started to realize that the little sight words also create visual clutter. We started using a curriculum for whole word learning which has a lot of similarity to how Dr. Roman uses highlighting and bubbling words. (EdMark Reading Program)

What would you tell a mom whose child has just been identified with Cortical Visual Impairment?

Cortical Visual Impairment doesn’t stand alone. The children with this diagnosis usually have other diagnoses. Many of the families I work with don’t know what CVI is. They just hear “blind.” They don’t know CVI can improve. When the vision of a child with CVI does improve, I get the joy of seeing their families experience moments that other parents would just take for granted.

My mom often tells me that everything has a season. Both good or bad. When something seems really bad, it will not last forever. Everything has a season.

It has been so important for me to have that village of people you trust and who know and understand your child. You need a village.

What do you know now that you wish you had known?

I definitely wish she had gotten the CVI diagnosis sooner. We wasted a lot of time not knowing about her vision.

What would you like people who’ve never heard of CVI to know? That visual clutter is everywhere. Complexity will never go away 100%. I educate people on that everyday in my job. And Phase III is hard for people to understand. People don’t realize Olivia is visually impaired.

Every child with CVI is different.

Hopes and dreams? I just want her to do something that allows her to be a functioning member of society. She loves babies and animals. I hope she can eventually get a job doing something she loves. I want her to be happy.

Thank you Dixie for sharing your experience! Thank you for serving families like ours. Thank you lovely Olivia for sharing your mom with us.

Kathryne, mother of “Little C,” (Moms on Monday #6) is changing how children with CVI are being educated in Louisiana. BRAVO!

Image: A little boy sitting on a black floor and surrounded by black walls. He wears glasses. He is leaning forward looking at a light source with many strands of shiny red beads hanging over it.

When I asked my local university VI graduate program why their curriculum did not address CVI and how they could add education opportunities on CVI to their VI curriculum I received the response, “it is almost impossible to provide all things to all people for all purposes.” CVI is the #1 pediatric visual impairment in the US. This was followed up with how Dr. Roman’s methods are “far from accepted as the preferred model” and there are a “diversity of opinions on how these youth are best served by educational systems.” Dr. Roman has provided the only educational model.

This happened a few weeks before the NE AER Conference. The November 22 post on CVI Momifesto provided the link to AER’s website to look up our state chapters. CVI Momifesto suggested that we contact our AER Presidents and ask how we as parents can support TVI training in CVI.

Even though I found no contact information, website, or conference for my local chapter I decided to pay the dues and see where this rabbit hole led.

After joining AER I reached out to my son’s outreach therapist that Louisiana School for the Visually Impaired (LSVI) is sending out twice a month. I asked if she knew if LA AER had any workshops or conferences and how as a parent member I could become involved. I hit the Jackpot. It turns out the head of LSVI’s Outreach Department is the outgoing AER President. She called me soon after full of excitement that a parent wanted to be involved. She was in total agreement that CVI training was needed.

All I had to do was ask to sponsor training. The next month AER approved the workshop. Louisiana will have a CVI work shop October 19, 2018, and I have extended a personal invitation to our local graduate VI program.

Last week, I had the chance to join the American Foundation for the Blind (AFB) and CEASD (The Conference of Educational Administrators of Schools and Programs for the Deaf) in their efforts to advocate for the Cogswell-Macy Act. Cogswell-Macy (H.R. 1120, S. 2087) is legislation named after Alice Cogswell, the deaf child who inspired Thomas Gallaudet to introduce deaf education to the United States and Anne Sullivan Macy, Helen Keller’s gifted teacher.

Why We Need the Cogswell-Macy Act

From the AFB Website: Today’s schools are not prepared to help children who are deafblind, deaf or hard of hearing, blind, or visually impaired develop to their full potential. (Magnify this statement times 10 for children with a brain based visual impairment such as Cortical Visual Impairment. See my earlier post titled Lego Trees and the posts under Death by IEP.)

The Cogswell-Macy Act is the most comprehensive special education legislation for students with sensory disabilities to date.

This act seeks to expand the resources available to these students, and their parents and educators, through the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA).

The Cogswell-Macy Act would –

ensure specialized instruction specifically for students who are visually impaired, deafblind, or deaf or hard of hearing.increase the availability of services and resources by ensuring all students who are deaf or hard of hearing, blind, visually impaired, or deafblind are accounted for.
enhance accountability at the state and federal levels.increase research into best practices for teaching and evaluating students with visual impairments by establishing the Anne Sullivan Macy Center on Visual Disability and Educational Excellence—a collaborative consortium of nonprofits, higher education institutions, and other agencies to provide technical support, research assistance, and professional development.

AFB and CEASD can offer you much more detailed information about this bill.

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What I can do is give you the play by play of the novice parent advocate who lives near D.C. and wants to help.

WEAR COMFORTABLE SHOES. Someone told me this last year. I thought I wanted to look professional so I’ll just wear my most comfortable heels.

THERE ARE NO COMFORTABLE HEELS.

Image: A pair of black shoes with heels and a binder with pictures of a child on the cover

I call this photo “Waiting for Senator Warner 2017.” By this time of day (early afternoon), I was already barefoot in a Senate building and sporting some impressive blisters.

3. DO NOT WEAR HEELS. Did you not hear me the first time? I know, I know. It’s the Capitol and the heart of our democracy, but seriously. Look around, everyone who works there wears tennis shoes or flats to run from building to building. They must keep their uncomfortable grown up shoes in their offices.

4. When you feel smug about how early you got up to drive to the Metro and catch a train to go into D.C., don’t. I got to our local Metro station in ample time to catch a train to be at the Advocacy Training by 8:30 a.m. And, the train was “delayed.” I waited. Annnnnd, after 20 minutes the status of the train was now “suspended.”
And, I ran back to the parking garage (Vienna Metro owes me $5)and drove to D.C. See where the shoes come in?

Image: My view of Northern Virginia traffic from the windshield of my car

Image: The dome of the Capitol building in the distance taken from a side street

5. When you see the Capitol, look for parking. And, keep looking, because the concept of public parking in D.C. is a city version of snipe hunting. Sure, you can drive to D.C. and find easily accessible parking! Sure, there are snipe in them there woods! (My family hails from Kentucky so I get to use phrases like “them there woods.” Although no one in my family has actually used the phrase “them there woods.”)

Image: A line of people standing outside the Rayburn building in DC

6. FYI – When you find parking (snipe!), you will not get even close to the government building you need to be in RIGHT NOW. When you hustle (SHOES!) to get to that building (by now only a half an hour late), there are dozens of people lined up outside the entrance waiting to get through security. What the heck? It was not this hard to get in the building last year.

At least, standing in line, you have time to catch your breath, dab your sweaty forehead with a Kleenex, and curse yourself for not leaving even earlier in the morning.

Then, you get a text from Rebecca Sheffield, Senior Policy Researcher, Ph.D. from the American Foundation of the Blind. (This is just a cool sentence to type.)

The text says, “If you are still on the way can you go over to the Russell building for a meeting with Sen. Tim Kaine’s staff?” Some of the Virginia advocates had not yet checked in. I imagined them sitting on the same metro platform I had been waiting on.

This year, you are wearing good shoes so YES, Rebecca Sheffield!

You ask no less than 3 D.C. policefolk how to get to the Russell building. Normally you could have cut across in front of the Capitol but the Rev. Billy Graham was lying in honor there. There were barricades all around the building and another line of over a hundred people waiting to pay their respects.

You will pass the Supreme Court building. There is a line to get in there as well. D.C. is a just a buzz of activity! You will see Boy Scouts. You see high school students from Oakton, Virginia on a scavenger hunt. You see Americans and tourists of all sizes, ages, and colors. It is a beautiful power walk through D.C. in business attire.

Image: The Supreme Court building

You hoof it to the Russell building, one of several Senate office buildings and location of Sen. Tim Kaine’s office with roughly 8 minutes to spare. Success!

Image: Outside of the Russell building

You have just enough time to dab sweat again, look over the talking points on Cogswell Macy and find Sen. Kaine’s office. This building is a buzz of activity as well. There are groups of teenagers, flower growers from all over America dressed in suits with brightly colored corsages pinned to their lapels, other advocates and lobbyists moving in packs with their affiliations written on badges hanging around their necks. Everyone has folders of talking points and information to leave with staff.

For a brief moment, standing outside the office, you are nervous that you will flub something in your meeting. You walk past well dressed teens joking around in the hallways and wonder how long it took one young man to get his part that straight. You feel a pang of something – not regret – envy? – because you know your own little girl will not have a moment like this. These teenagers take in so much information about this busy place, about each other in a single second because they have normal vision. Because they can learn incidentally.

You think about all of the students throughout the U.S. who are blind, or deaf, or deafblind. You think about all of the children with sensory loss who are misunderstood in their classrooms. Children who lack ACCESS to their environment. You think about your own daughter and her diagnosis of Cortical Visual Impairment – information that inevitably produces the following response: “Huh?” – when you mention it for the first time.

You think about how many times you’ve tried to explain your daughter’s visual impairment. How it seems as though she is not paying attention or that she cannot understand because typically sighted folks do not know what to make of a child who does not look them in the eye and who takes longer to respond.

You think about the national shortage of Teachers of the Visually Impaired and Orientation and Mobility Specialists. You think about the lack of teachers and other providers who know what to do with a child with CVI. There is so much work to be done to give our children a better chance to connect with the world around them, to give us a chance to reach them. Frankly, you feel a tad overwhelmed.

You want to yell, “Oh, Senators, we need co-sponsors for Cogswell-Macy! We need champions for children with sensory loss. We need champions for children with CVI!”

You do not.

Image: Kirk Adams, a tall man with gray hair holding a cane, and Adrianna Montague, a woman in a black dress smile while standing next to a sign that reads Senator Tim Kaine of Virginia

7. You enter the senator’s office to jump into Advocacy Day (and decide to stop numbering your post that has gone on way too long and will be read by no one…).

With a flood of relief, you find Kirk Adams, the president of the American Foundation for the Blind, and Adrianna Montague, the Chief Communications and Marketing Officer for AFB, waiting for the meeting as well.

You meet with one of Sen. Kaine’s staffers, Karishma Merchant, who oversees education and other issues. Ms. Merchant is a willing audience and asks great questions.

AFB recently moved their main office from New York to Arlington, Virginia. Mr. Adams and Ms. Montague take this opportunity to introduce AFB as a resource for Sen. Kaine’s staff and to emphasize the need for legislation like Cogswell Macy. You get to tell her a little about the challenges children with sensory loss face in U.S. school systems.

Ms. Merchant asks your help to advocate against legislation that was introduced in the House to deregulate the Americans with Disabilities Act.

ACTION ITEM: H.R. 620 is what supporters in the House are euphemistically calling the ADA Education and Reform Act (H.R. 620). Don’t believe it for second.

Senator Tammy Duckworth of Illinois is leading the call to ask Senator Chuck Schumer and Senator Mitch McConnell not to bring forward H.R. 620 or any similar bill.

You leave Sen. Kaine’s office hoping that you have earned another co-sponsor for Cogswell-Macy and prepared to help him advocate for all people with disabilities.

Then, you bid Mr. Adams and Ms. Montague adieu and wait for your next appointment with Sen. Mark Warner in the afternoon. You have time to jog back to your car and feed the meter.

Later, at the Hart Senate Office Building, for the meeting with Senator Warner, you will see this sculptural work Mountains and Clouds by Alexander Calder. The Hart building feels different from other senate buildings. Wikipedia tells me its architectural style is Modernist not Neoclassical like the Dirksen and Russell buildings.

Now you know for your next Adventure in Advocacy. If you see this sculpture, you are in the Hart Senate Office Building. Handy!

Image: Large black triangular sculpture that nearly touches the ceiling of the atrium of the Hart building

At some point in the afternoon, you realize you’ve been taking pictures of places but very few pictures of people. You wish you had gotten a picture of the flower growers and their brightly decorated lapels, or the extremely straight part in that young man’s hair.

At Senator Warner’s office, you have a brief meeting with Lauren Marshall, the same staffer you met last year. She is attentive and kind. She promises to reread Cogswell-Macy and to bring it up with Sen. Warner.

That’s really all you can ask.

You walk away from the Hart Building hoping you have made some small connection within the Senate for children who are blind, or deaf, or deafblind. You know that these populations of children do not get a lot of press. You hope you can help spread a sense of urgency about the challenges facing children with sensory loss in the classroom.

You want senators, representatives, and anyone who affects legislation to understand two simple facts. These children matter. Their education matters.

At the end of the day, you hope you have made it easier for the next mom to reach out to her legislator to tell her story. Thatmom is going to make change happen for her child. She is a force of nature.

Good morning fellow families of miraculous children who happen to have Cortical Visual Impairment,

This morning’s Mom on Monday is Beth from Iowa. Beth is the mother of 3 young men, Matt (24), Pat (22), and Tyson (6). She is a Special Education teacher for the Nebraska Department of Corrections. As Beth says, “I’m an Iowa mom and a Nebraska teacher.”

Image: A smiling young man giving a thumbs up sign and a smiling boy leaning against him. Image: Two smiling young men. One young man is holding the boy in his lap.

She has been a staunch supporter and board member of the Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment Society (PCVIS).

Beth is wise, fierce and funny with the straight forward, “call ’em like you see ’em” perspective of a mom who has seen a lot and has persevered.

Both Tyson and Pat have been identified as having Cortical Visual Impairment although at markedly different times in their lives. Beth has experienced having one child diagnosed as an infant and one child diagnosed as a young adult.

Tyson came into Beth’s life when he was 4 months old after being neglected, underfed and drugged by his birth mother. In addition to CVI, Tyson has an ocular visual impairment. He is extremely farsighted in one eye (20/400) and wears glasses. He has moderate to severe hearing loss, hypotonia, developmental delays, and “autistic type behaviors”. His dual sensory loss and lack of communication skills qualify him as a deafblind child. Beth adopted Tyson when he was 18 months old.

Tyson was diagnosed with CVI at approximately 12 months old.

It was only when Beth started to learn more about Tyson’s brain based vision loss that she began to see similarities in Pat’s and Tyson’s visual behaviors. This led her to take her older son – by then a young man – to the same Pediatric Ophthalmologist who diagnosed Tyson, Dr. Richard Legge, from Omaha Children’s Hospital. (Dr. Legge is also the current president and one of the founders of the Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment Society.)

Beth’s older son, Pat, received a CVI diagnosis at the age of 20.

Enduring a traumatic birth and underdeveloped lungs, Pat “was blue when he was born.” He had Periventricular Leukomalacia (PVL), a type of brain injury to white matter and experienced heavy seizure activity before the age of 2. He received early intervention services for speech delays.

As a boy, he wore glasses for 8 or 9 years and often complained that “his eyes were hurting.” Beth continued to take him to pediatric eye doctors who decided that his history of seizures left him with “weak eyes” and a lazy eye. Eventually, Pat stopped wearing glasses when the doctors decided that he had issues that “glasses would not fix.” At that time, Beth explained that she did not know about the specializations for pediatric vision. “I didn’t know there was such a thing as a neuro-ophthalmologist.”

Pat is 22 years old now. His seizure disorder and visual impairment prohibit him from driving. He is employed and takes an Uber or gets a ride from Beth to get where he needs to go.About Tyson: What does he like to do? What makes him laugh? What are his favorite activities?

Image: A smiling young boy in glasses wearing a Chewbacca Halloween costume

Tyson loves cars, trucks, and all things with wheels. He doesn’t understand the concept of cartoons, but will enjoys Daniel Tiger cartoons and Bob the Builder.

He likes to watch old movies and Westerns like Rawhide and the Lone Ranger. Older shows and movies have music in the background. They are not as flashy as shows today. He likes the music; it helps him understand what is going on.

His favorite colors are neon pink and green, especially pink.

Beth and his teachers to use neon pink to get Tyson’s visual attention. One of his favorite toys is a bright pink sensory ball he received from the Iowa School for the Blind. When did you first learn about CVI?

The first eye doctor I took him to said he didn’t know why people “brought kids in before the age of 2.”

Beth realized that his multiple diagnoses required more specialized doctors, so she opened the phone book and started calling until she found Dr. Legge at Omaha Children’s Hospital. How were you given the diagnosis?

Dr. Legge explained Cortical Visual Impairment. He said it would be a long road and how his vision improved would depend on the amount of damage to Tyson’s brain. He thought that since I was a special education teacher it would be easier for me to understand it. How was your child’s early intervention experience with regard to CVI? Were your providers knowledgeable? Were they open to learning?

In early intervention, Tyson’s first Teacher of the Visually Impaired did not like that he didn’t prefer the color red. What she took from Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s book was that all children with CVI prefer the color red. This is NOT true and not what Dr. Roman-Lantzy wrote.

Children may have color preferences. The choice of color will vary depending on the child. Tyson likes neon pink. When he did not respond to the color she thought he should respond to, she told Beth’s babysitter, “Tyson’s just making retarded choices.”

Even though he was a non-verbal infant who couldn’t crawl, Tyson made his opinion of this TVI very clear. He didn’t crawl, but he could roll. So he rolled over to the front door to close it when he heard her approaching. Sometimes he would roll away and hide under a bed when she came to work with him.

Beth changed to another TVI. In Iowa, TVI cover geographic zones so a child may work with the same teacher from birth to adulthood. Tyson’s 2nd TVI still works with him and his school team. How is CVI being addressed in your child’s school setting?

The first year he was in school and this year have been great. The first year, everyone was willing to learn. We explained that the stairs needed to have reflective tape on them to help Tyson navigate them safely. The principal said that this accommodation would help everyone. One weekend the principal and other school staff came in to put reflective tape on the stairs – one color for going up and one color for going down.What do you know now that you wish you had known at the beginning of your journey as your sons’ mom?

That you can switch your providers or services. I assumed you just got who you assigned.

Follow your gut. If something feels wrong, keep looking, keep asking.

What would you tell a mother whose child has just been identified as having CVI?

DO NOT GOOGLE CVI and all the horrible things you might find on the internet until you have spoken to an expert. Find an expert and ask questions. And, keep asking.

If you do research on the internet, look for something research based and at your level. The internet is a wonderful and scary place at the same time. Not everything you read will be true.

It is terrifying enough when you hear initials instead of words. When they said Pat had PVL (Periventricular Leukomalacia), I heard leukemia.

Know that CVI is a spectrum diagnosis. There can be 20 kids in a room with CVI and each one will be different from the next.

Just because someone (even if it’s your parents) gives you advice, you can listen but it might not be what works for you. Take everything you hear with a grain of salt. What’s best for you is not going to work for me. Figure out what works for you and your child and what you have access to.

Don’t be afraid to take advantage of any services you can get – even if it means having a label assigned to your child. Take help where you can get it.

Don’t be so afraid that there is so much more to do. It’s small steps. A little at a time.

Move past the guilt part. Cut that out quick.

What would you like for people who have never heard of CVI to know?

Having a visual impairment is not the end of the world. We all “see” things differently anyway.

There is a huge range within the spectrum of a CVI diagnosis. What they can do at 6 months is not what they can do at 16 years. Let time work.

Hopes and dreams? Anything else you’d like to add?

I’d like them to eventually take care of themselves and/or to express their needs. I’d like them to live a peaceful life.

Tyson has CVI and other diagnoses. He has about 10 words – not full words. He has his own signs. Sometimes the frustration he has is not about vision, it’s communication. When they talk about getting a child to “talk,” use the word communicate. It might not be in the cards for him to talk. And, you can’t let the kids get away with everything because of a diagnosis.

There is a lot of trial and error in this. At the end of the day, if they’re all still alive, it’s ok.

On judgment from strangers: Everyone will have an opinion. Tyson likes pink. Some people have a problem with boys liking pink. Who cares what color your kid likes?

There are people everywhere who will try to give you advice. For example, we were in a toy aisle one day. A woman noticed Tyson and started to tell me all of the things he wasn’t doing. She told me, if he’s not doing this and that, then he needs to be in therapy.

I thought, “I’m so glad I came to the toy section of Walmart to get medical advice.”

And, that, gentle readers, may be my favorite sentence of all time.

Beth, talking to you made my weekend. Thank you for taking the time to share your experience, your wisdom, and your humor. Your young men have a formidable mother.

I told the lovely folks at AER that Dr. Sandy couldn’t make it due to a rogue koala attack and we carried on. It was great to see Mark Richert and Rebecca Sheffield of the American Foundation for the Blind in the audience. Which reminds me…

FYI and ACTION ITEM:AFB will be hosting a conference call for the CVI community titled Mobilizing Advocacy to Improve Special Education for Children with CVI on Wednesday, March 14th at 8:30 until 11:30 p.m.

The minute we stop expecting improvement, we will not get improvement.

Image: An empty podium. A book and a large black posterboard is on a chair in front of the podium.

I showed off the new edition of Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s book, a picture calendar board I saw during Ellen Mazel’s presentation at NE AER and a Start Seeing CVI t-shirt. Several TVI came up to me afterwards and asked about how to get a t-shirt.

During the presentation I suggested that the Perkins-Roman Endorsement class would be a great place to start learning more about how give a child with CVI visual access to her world.

I have very little to offer the overworked, underappreciated TVI I asked to get more training for our complicated kids. I did, however, promise to make a pie for any future endorsee.

AND, this time, I even got Julie Durando from the Va Deaf-Blind Project to offer cake or other baked goods. Apparently, she makes an Italian Wedding Cream Cake that will change your life and is about to begin experimenting with puff pastries. Puff pastries, people!

Image: A pumpkin pie with a slice missing.

Good morning fellow families of wonderful children who happen to have CVI,

This morning’s Mom on Monday is Maya’s mom, Jenny, from Indiana. Jenny and her family have been very active in advocating for early intervention services for children with vision loss. In this post, Jenny takes on a common challenge to parents of children with CVI and ocular forms of visual impairment. Take it away, Jenny!

Image: A girl in glasses gives a peace sign

I have two wonderful daughters, one of whom has CVI, Cortical Visual Impairment. Maya is 7 years old now and in 2nd grade. Her older sister, Zoey, is 8 and in 3rd grade.

Maya was born 2 weeks early on an overcast day in May. Due to being rear ended in a car accident, I was in the ER, extremely pregnant, strapped to a back board, and wearing a C-collar. I was watching the clock when the contractions started. So began my journey in the world of having a “special needs child.”

Maya is a great kid who loves playing with her older sister. Oh, there are times when she is extremely challenging, don’t get me wrong. Right now her passion is butterflies. Maya is as stubborn, determined, caring and sweet child who has never met a stranger. At school she even has an amazing group of friends who look out for her.

I would like to talk about sleep. Kiddos with a vision impairment can be, how can I put this? Sleep challenged? Let’s be honest, it can be a living nightmare for parents when their child can’t sleep. It was for me. She just wouldn’t sleep! Maya was 2 years old at this point and climbing out of her crib when we first started talking about sleep. I was looking particularly haggard at one Developmental Peds appointment when the doctor asked me if Maya was sleeping. They recommended some melatonin and a sleep safe bed. One insurance fight later, a big truck pulled out front with the miracle bed. Let me tell you, it was worth every second of dealing with the insurance company. The solution worked until Maya was 5 years old. One day she discovered how to climb out of that thing. This kid who walks like a drunken sailor can climb like a professional rock climber. She would climb out of that bed, play in her room, and occasionally climb into bed with me, or go into her sister’s room and play.

Ok, I thought, I can deal with this.

Then, one night, she went outside. I woke up to knocking on my bedroom window.

Good lord, it was Maya! Her knees were muddy where she had fallen, and her bare feet were cold. She was bored playing by herself and wanted some company. That was the worst night of my life. My baby could have gotten seriously hurt and I was oblivious. The thought never crossed my mind that she would go outside by herself! I asked her why. She said that she couldn’t sleep and decided to go play outside. Oh, and she brought the family dog with her on her 2 a.m. outdoor adventure. After that, my husband added alarms on Maya’s door, and every other door in the house that could lead to a potentially dangerous situation.

Image: A girl standing in a swing in the backyard

We changed tactics. Instead of managing the situation, how do we make it better? I googled, researched, and talked with my mom. We tried everything from promising I-Pad time if she would stay in bed to taking away toys if she got out. Nothing worked. It felt like I was slowing losing my mind from not sleeping. If she wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t sleeping. I needed to make sure she was safe.

Maya has trouble getting to sleep and staying asleep. Finally, I talked to experts. I called every doctor and specialist that I could think of who might help. Doctors we hadn’t seen in years! I was drowning and she was too. Due to being persistent and sobbing over the phone to a sympathetic nurse we got an appointment with the sleep clinic and the nearest Children’s Hospital. (Of course, we had to get a referral sent over first.)

We implemented the advice that the sleep clinic recommended and it kind of worked, but not all the time. She was falling asleep at school at this point. She was acting out because she was tired and cranky. That got us bumped up to the sleep psychologist. With their help we finally got a handle on the situation when they added some sleep medication in addition to the melatonin. It helps her sleep through the night and not get up at 4 a.m. every morning. She doesn’t sleep well every night, but most nights. It goes in cycles really.

Here is what we do.

No screen time 2 hours before bed. She is sensitive to blue light. It sends her brain the wrong signals. Instead of the signals – “It’s time to relax” and produce melatonin, she would play on the IPad all night long.

The doctor added an iron supplement because was have a family history of restless leg syndrome. The doctor thinks it’s genetic. Apparently, it can skip a generation and then crop back up again. Awesome! It takes about 3 months to build up to the correct level of iron. Maya tested low on her iron. Hopefully, the supplement will help. In some cases, once that iron level is up to where it needs to be the restless leg goes away. (Fingers crossed!)

We also took out all of her toys and distractions from her room and added a strict bedtime and a bedtime routine.

If your child isn’t sleeping, you are not alone. Don’t wait. Talk with the experts and get some help. It will benefit your whole family and your marriage.

Thank you Jenny and Maya! I read your post with great interest because sleep is a constant challenge for us too. Thanks for sharing!

“First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.”

— misattributed to Mahatma Ghandi according to Snopes (It doesn’t matter who said it. Heck, let’s go Spartacus and all claim it.)

Yesterday, I reblogged a post from the CVI Teacher, Ellen Mazel. She was responding to what seems to be a common – and, frankly, disappointing – misconception regarding the Perkins-Roman CVI Range Endorsement.

And, I couldn’t get it out of my head. It really burned my beans so to speak.

We CVI families are in this together, so when you mess with one of us, you mess with the whole trailer park. (My favorite bumper sticker from a visit to Florida some years ago. You’re welcome.)

The misconception is this.

Some administrators and educators in the field of the education of children with sensory loss believe that Perkins School for the Blind and Dr. Roman-Lantzy are making themselves rich off of the CVI Range Endorsement.

These folks are vocal and dismissive of the work being done to train providers and parents about how to help children with CVI build their abilities to visually access the world around them.

Ellen Mazel’s post lays out the administrative costs to offer the CVI Range endorsement as explained by Mary Zatta, the Director of Professional Development at Perkins.

Looking at the numbers, it is easy to see that no person and no organization is becoming wealthy offering training about CVI. They are serving a need that had gone unmet for decades.

If we are going to be talking about Perkins and Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s work, I’d like to get the facts straight:

Let’s be clear about who we are talking about here.

First, Perkins School for the Blind was established in 1829. It is the oldest school for the blind in the United States. It is a 501c3 organization committed to serving individuals who are blind and/or multiply impaired.

Their mission is to prepare children and young adults who are blind with the education, confidence and skills they need to realize their potential.

Perkins is a champion for children with blindness and other disabilities. It has a long history and stellar reputation for service including the fact that Annie Sullivan – arguably one of the most dedicated and creative teachers ever – was educated there.

Second, Dr. Christine Roman-Lanzty has spent decades of her professional life studying CVI, and seeing thousands –

let’s say that again –

thousands –

of children identified with this brain based visual impairment.

Dr. Roman-Lantzy knew there was a desperate need for an approach to training providers and educators about CVI.

She took it upon herself to approach organizations in the blindness community to help her develop a training

or

to help her advocate for better training of TVI on the unique learning needs of children with CVI.

The organizations said no.

Then, she approached Perkins.

Perkins School for the Blind, under the leadership of President Dave Power, understood the need for serving children with CVI, a quickly growing (yet still under-recognized) population of children. (HOW is that still possible?)

Dr. Roman-Lantzy said, “Children with CVI can learn. They deserve to be educated. Their families deserve to be supported. Perkins said YES.

Perkins and Dave Power welcomed children with CVI into the scope of their mission. Mary Zatta worked with Dr. Roman-Lantzy on developing the endorsement so educators and therapists would have a reliable tool to use when working with children with CVI. Perkins has since developed a wide variety of classes, webinars, and on-site programming around Cortical Visual Impairment to further support children, families and educators.

From my perspective, when Perkins agreed to develop the Perkins-Roman Range Endorsement, they said “Yes, your daughter matters.”

I will be forever grateful to them for recognizing a need and for taking that first uncertain step.

I respectfully suggest to anyone who wants to dismiss the CVI Range Endorsement, do your homework. Understand it. Understand the process of teaching children with CVI.

If and when you have another approach to teach our children, let me know. I will be the first to read your research, to buy your book, and to engage in a spirited debate

Until then, what purpose does it serve you to be cynical about people who are legitimately trying to help children with CVI and their families?

I am a mother. I do not have the luxury of cynicism. I have a finite amount of time to give my daughter the skills she needs to be as independent as possible. I am looking (I have spent the last decade searching) for what I can DO for my daughter.

Cynicism serves no one.

I have found a path within the work of Dr. Christine Roman-Lantzy. We have seen success on this path. Our daughter is learning to recognize pictures. She is learning to sign. She is learning to communicate and to understand concepts.

We have found hope on this path. She will be able to communicate her wants and needs. She will have enjoyable activities in her life and opportunities to socialize in a meaningful way because we are learning how to teach her about the world in a way she can understand.

Why would you deny my family this information, this reliable and valid method of assessment and education? Why would you deny us hope?

Many CVI parents will be happy to give you their anecdotal evidence about how their children’s vision (and consequently, their cognition and their behavior) have improved by working within the scope of Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s work.

We don’t have time to be cynical. Cynicism kills hope.

Sometimes hope is all we have.

CVI is new territory for medical and educational professionals. We need more research. We need to raise awareness. There is a newness to this movement that makes some doctors and teachers of the visually impaired uncomfortable. It is uncomfortable. We get it. Parents of children with CVI live outside of our comfort zones all the time. We are learning all the time. Sometimes our efforts fall short of our expectations. We learn from them and try again. There is no other option for us.

But, for those who choose to stand on the sidelines criticizing and spreading misinformation about Perkins, Dr. Roman-Lantzy, and exceptional teachers like Ellen Mazel, I ask you: What purpose does your criticism serve? Who does it help?

Aren’t you supposed to be helping the children and their families? How are you helping?

There are no tests of potential (different from achievement) that are free from inherent bias for individuals with CVI. The items are often based on content that is linked to visual learning and therefore, the scores will skew low

….and they certainly do.Dr. Christine Roman-Lantzy

Cognitive assessment is typically based on how a child learns information including rate of learning, problem solving, and accuracy. For children with vision impairment, they have not had access to basic information.

How can you learn, let alone be judged on, information that either you cannot access or others have not given you access?

Dr. Sandra Newcomb

Hello fellow families of beautiful children with CVI,

Since it’s IEP season, I’ve been thinking about assessment tests recently. As a parent of a child with special needs, I have watched my daughter go through a gauntlet of physical, developmental and cognitive testing from her earliest days. It can be hard to watch. It can be hard to hear the results. Whatever the results, I want them to be accurate.

As the parent of child with CVI, I have learned that there is a lot to be aware of when someone says they want to assess your child.

When Eliza was about a year old, a new occupational therapist wanted to assess her.

We were still wrapping our minds around the diagnoses that had quickly followed our girl into the world: microcephaly, cerebral palsy, global developmental delay, cortical visual impairment. The learning curve was less a curve than a straight 90 degree angle to climb with no climbing gear, and occasional boulders of unforeseen complications – seizures, asthma attacks, severe GI issues, little sleep – raining down at any given time. We were trying to find our way.

This was soon after our Neuro-Ophthalmologist had told us there was nothing we could do about CVI. “Take her home, treat her like a blind child, come back and see me in a year.”

This was soon after I had ordered Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s book and sought her out for the first time. I was just at the beginning of understanding what Cortical Visual Impairment was. The message that Eliza’s vision could improve, however, was loud and clear.

Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s work offered me a glimpse of hope, especially because many of her 10 CVI characteristics explained Eliza’s puzzling behaviors for the first time..

Eliza was a light gazer. She stared at light coming in through windows, lamps, or any strong light source. She stared at fans. She reluctantly used her peripheral vision and only if she had to. There was a long latency period between the time she would glance sideways at an object and then reach for it (usually with her head turned away from the object). If you did not know to wait, you would miss her processing and getting organized enough to reach for something she had seen 15, 20, 30 seconds earlier.

She would not look into faces. Her head often hung down, especially in new environments. The novelty of new places was too much sensory input, and often, caused her to have screaming fits. She was in Phase I. I was still learning what that meant, but it was a place to start. It was a foot hold in my 90 degree upward climb.

The new occupational therapist wanted to assess Eliza’s fine motor skills to establish a baseline to measure future progress. Made sense to me. I knew we had to get used to doing this. We had to let the experts do their thing. Their keen eyes and knowledge would help me read my girl who was in many ways still a puzzle to me. Their assessments would give us a fuller picture of Eliza and what she could do. Or would they?

This is what I remember from the first assessment 10 years ago.

It was called the Hawaii Early Learning Profile. I remember because the acronym for this assessment is HELP. That was very comforting. Boy, did I need HELP. And, why Hawaii? What did Hawaii know that the rest of the United States did not? Maybe, there would be poi and hula dancing involved. (Remember, I was not sleeping and it gets very busy in my head even when I’m well rested). The HELP would help.

Standing in the OT’s office with one-year-old Eliza on my hip, I read over the developmental charts in the HELP. I noticed that a lot of what was assessed required that the child had typical vision. I mentioned this to the therapist. She agreed that was an issue. HELP, like most developmental assessments, did not account for vision loss. But, she would write a note that Eliza had CVI.

I continued reading the chart of developmental milestones.

“Looks at picture” – Nope.

“Plays with hands, feet” – Hasn’t found them yet, so no.

“Looks at place where ball falls down” – Uh Uh.

“Plays Peek-A-Boo” – Well, doesn’t look at faces, so pass.

“Searches with eyes for sound” – Can we substitute stares at light bulbs?

“Places cylinder in similarly shaped hole” – Okay, I don’t even know where to begin with this one. Just no.

“She is technically legally blind,” I told the OT. “She doesn’t look at pictures. She doesn’t look at faces. New sounds startle her. Do you have a different assessment?”

The OT assured me she would mention Eliza’s diagnosis of CVI in the notes section of the test.

“Wait, what? The central challenge to her ability to interact with the world will be a footnote?” (Okay, I didn’t say anything that articulate. The “Wait, what?” is more like it.)

To begin, she wanted to test Eliza’s ability to track a ball and to reach for it. She put a light colored tennis ball on a school desk and rolled it to where I was standing with Eliza in my arms.

“Get the ball, Eliza!” the therapist prompted. The ball rolled off the desk. Eliza was oblivious. The OT looked apologetic, picked up the ball and tried it again. Eliza stared at the fluorescent lights above us. I stared at the therapist in disbelief.

“She can’t see the ball,” I told the OT. “It is too similar to the color of the desk. Can I put a piece of black cloth on the desk to make it easier for her to see?”

“No. We have to maintain the protocol of the assessment.”

“If she could see it, she might reach for it.”

“We can’t change how we do the assessment.”

“So, the assessment will just be a series of zeroes then. It is going to look like she can’t do any of this if we don’t give her a chance to see what you expect her to do. You’re not going to get an accurate idea of what she can do right now this way. That’s like me asking you to run an obstacle course or do an algebra test in the dark. How would you score on that?”

“I’m sorry. This is how we perform this assessment.”

“Well, it’s basically useless. So, I think we are done here.”

After watching the OT roll a ball my daughter could not see to her and then, scoring her as unable to track and complete the task, it dawned on me that the rules of this test were stacked against her. Her development was going to chart a different path, a path this test did not accurately measure.

This was a new and strange idea. I was slowly getting used to the fact that Eliza didn’t fit in anyone else’s boxes – not the pediatrician’s typical development questionnaires, not the stupid head circumference charts, and now, not even in the assessment for a child with developmental delays.

We were in unchartered territory. We needed people who would think (and assess) outside of the box. If the test did not apply to her, then the rules didn’t either. I thanked the OT for her time, told her we would not be working with her, and took Eliza home.

I am not an expert in developmental assessments, but I have sat through many of them over the years both as an observer and an interviewee. Eliza is far too capable and far too challenging to be relegated to “notes in the margin.”

I have since seen gifted interventionists and therapists work with Eliza’s sensory challenges – starting with a thorough reading of her scores on the CVI Range. I have seen them observe her intently for long periods of time. I have seen them use trial and error when necessary, but always respectfully.

The kid faces enough challenges as it is. She at least deserves to be evaluated in a way that reflects her true ability and potential.

And, the HELP was no help at all. (Sorry. It was right there. Someone HAD to say it.)

Fast forward about 10 years to a week ago, when I was sitting in a meeting with our IEP team at Eliza’s school.

Our search for FAPE in our CVI saga is a long and complicated tale. There have been successes and setbacks. In the CVI spectrum, Eliza is on the complicated side. She is non-verbal and has had a series of lackluster school placements.

Yes, she has delays in her physical and cognitive development. Yes, she can learn. Yes, these two sentences can co-exist. You would be surprised how many people you have to convince of this basic fact.

This year we have had slow, steady success with communication. On the other hand, she has also developed some behaviors that get her out of doing things she doesn’t want to do. (That kind of cleverness doesn’t show up on cognitive tests. And, will give me more grey hair than I already have.)

In this recent IEP meeting, a school psychologist confidently presented her assessment of Eliza’s behaviors and introduced the Behavior Intervention Plan that would shape them right up. There would be a token system of bright yellow stars that Eliza would learn to associate with immediate rewards. Eliza will comply! Eliza will be rewarded!

Eliza is currently in mid to upper Phase II now. With private consultation and work at home, she has begun showing more visual curiosity. We have worked on teaching actual objects in her environment first and then moving to 2D representations of these objects. Recent research from CTVI Matt Tietjen has revealed that children with CVI struggle the most with symbolic representations of objects – cartoon drawings, illustrations, etc… They need to learn the actual objects and then learn the pictures of the objects. (Check out his class, “What’s the Complexity Framework” offered through Perkins elearning. Seriously.)

This is what was going through my mind when the psychologist started explaining her token system to us. They were proposing stars (symbols) to represent a reward for a child who does not have a lot of external motivators. (I never said she was easy.) I wondered if the psychologist had actually met my girl.

I wanted to clarify about needing to use actual objects and then move to 2D pictures.

I interjected, “You realize she has a visual impairment right? She has Cortical Visual Impairment, so we have to —”

“I know, I know. High contrast. We have to make the stars high contrast.” The psychologist cut me off mid-sentence and began explaining her token system again.

I was reminded of something CVI Teacher Ellen Mazel said at a recent conference.

Ellen says that the most dangerous people she has ever met are

1. Teachers who have never heard about CVI

and

2. Teachers who have been to one workshop or read one article and think they are experts in CVI.

I knew I was sitting in this IEP meeting with someone who had read an article and decided she knew CVI.

She was going to continue using the assessments and the strategies she knew (for children with – I can only assume – typical vision) without taking into account how Eliza has access to her environment.
By the way, not having access to your environment, not understanding what is going on around you will affect your behavior.

This situation is still a work in progress.

I am shopping for an advocate and hoping to win the lottery. To be continued….

What have I learned from these experiences? What do I continue to learn?

When dealing with children identified with CVI, the CVI Range (Roman 2007) is the assessment that is the foundation of all other assessments.

When you are the parent of a child with CVI, be wary of the assessments used by your intervention or educational teams. There are not many developmental assessments that take visual impairment into account. Ask a lot of questions.

Ask them if they know what incidental learning is. Our children are NOT incidental learners. This fact should guide how therapists and teachers interact with them.

If you don’t feel comfortable with the answers, ask more questions until you do. Or, ask for new providers. You have every right to work with therapists and interventionists who have your child’s best interest at heart and who understand how to work with a child with CVI.

Regarding other assessments for young children with sensory loss, I found interesting information here:

I am also aware of The Oregon Project for Preschool Children who are Blind or Visually Impaired. It is a comprehensive assessment and curriculum designed for use with children birth to six who are blind or visually impaired. It can be used by parents, teachers, vision specialists, or counselors in the home or in the classroom setting.

I am not recommending one assessment over another. Each child with CVI is unique and requires a multi-disciplinary team approach of therapists, interventionists, teachers, and doctors. Some of these team members must have a thorough understanding of CVI.

We, the parents, are team captains. If your team proposes to assess your child with developmental tests that do not give your child access, you may need to discuss what other methods of assessments are available.

If no one on your team says you need to get a CVI Range completed for your child by a Perkins-Roman Endorsee, then, you need to lead the way.

Inaccurate results are not going to help your child. Inaccurate results are not going to help your child’s therapists or educational team.

Even when it comes to assessments:

And, to all of those folks who want to test our children with tests that do not accommodate them…

To all of the therapists and teachers who have read one article or attended one workshop on CVI and then try to fit these kids in the margins or the footnotes, Eliza and I would like to respectfully say,

“Storytelling is dangerous to those who profit from the way things are because it has the power to show that the way things are is not permanent. Not universal and sometimes, not even necessary.”

-Ursula Le Guin

Hello fellow families of delightful children who happen to be identified with Cortical Visual Impairment,

There are several mothers out there who have let me know that they are working on a post for Moms on Monday. Ladies, I thank you. I’m a mom and it’s Monday, so I’m going to invite you once again to share a part of your and your child’s story with us. When you have the time, of course.

As we all know, and as Dr. Roman-Lantzy frequently says, CVI Moms are the busiest people we know.

We are the busiest people she knows because we are working tirelessly to get our children acknowledged and accommodated in a system that is not built to acknowledge or accommodate them.

The way things are is exhausting and discouraging.

I hope to gather as many stories as possible as a resource of personal experiences for families. Every story is important. Please know that there are no wrong answers. You can write something original, or you can use the questions in the Calling All CVI Moms post as a starting point. You can help another parent just by allowing your voice to be heard and allowing your child to be seen.

There is another reason for collecting stories.

As the writer Ursula Le Guin reminds us, the way things are is not permanent.

Not universal and not even necessary.

Let that percolate for a minute.

The way things are is not permanent.

Not. Universal.

And

Not. Even. Necessary. (This is my favorite part.)

We have a unique ability to assess the shortcomings of the systems we are fighting. (Did you ever think you’d be an expert on neurology, ophthalmology, neuroscience, & methods of teaching children with sensory loss? Me neither.)

From our shared experiences, we have the ability to imagine a better way and to work towards a“Way things are” that recognizes and provides for children with CVI.

Our stories will become a spotlight on inefficient, outdated methods of data collection and a tone deaf educational system. Our children matter. They need to be counted. They need to be taught, actually taught. (ACCESS! They must have access! They are not incidental learners! Sorry, I just had to get that out.)

As CVI families begin to advocate, they will find themselves in the offices of their elected officials and speaking in front of school boards. When CVI families begin to advocate, they may feel as though they are fighting an uphill battle (yep) and that they are alone (NOPE).

The methods of keeping track of our children on local, state, and even the federal level are woefully inadequate. States vary in their expectation of counting children with special needs, and CVI does not even make it on the list of many states. It is still called “Cortical Blindness” in many places. We need to change that.

If the children are not identified, and not accounted for, then the funding necessary to provide resources will not be included in your state budget or the federal budget.

There are plenty of state legislators who will not want to give you the time of day because you and your story represent more expenses in your state’s government. That is just too bad because it’s your budget too. You live in and pay taxes in your state. Heck, you vote! (Please vote.) Your friendly neighborhood legislator needs to meet with you, a friendly neighborhood constituent.

Here’s an example of the power of storytelling.

When we moved to Indiana, Eliza was 2 years old. She had one more year of early intervention. She was globally delayed. We qualified for several therapies, occupational, physical, speech and developmental therapy. I was so grateful to have access to these services. I knew, however, that her lack of usable vision was going to affect how useful all the other therapies were, so I asked about early intervention for vision loss.

I was directed to the Indiana First Steps matrix – the database for all of the providers in the state. When I entered “visual impairment,” the name of an Optometry professor at Indiana University came up.

One name.

For the entire state.

And, the description mentioned making an appointment to come to his office to have your child assessed for glasses. Not home visits. Not early intervention.

What about the children who were blind? Or, who, like Eliza, were legally blind due to Cortical Visual Impairment and who needed to be taught to see?

I asked around and was referred to the Indiana State School for the Blind and Visually Impaired. I was able to set up an appointment with the Outreach TVI who came to my house to meet Eliza and me a few weeks later. She was the most wonderful and experienced TVI. She knew about CVI. She understood the lack of access and calmed my fears. She gave me several articles and showed me some ways to interact with Eliza that had not occurred to me. She stayed for over 2 hours.

My prayers were answered.

I asked to schedule our next appointment.

And, I discovered that this wonderful TVI had a caseload of over 300 children.

One teacher was the entire early intervention team for infants and toddlers who were blind or had severe vision loss. She drove around the state staying as long as she could, providing everything she could in the very limited time and with the very limited resources available to her. She knew it was not nearly enough. What she provided was what the system would allow.

It was just how things were.

By the time she could see Eliza again, Eliza would have aged out of early intervention.

How was that okay?

To make a long story a tad shorter, I eventually found myself testifying before committees at the Indiana Statehouse about the lack of early intervention for infants and toddlers with vision loss. I poured my heart out about how hard it had been to have a baby I could not reach while some committee members chatted or got up and left. (Not all. Some were very receptive.) I had meetings with state representatives who did not crack a smile the entire time I sat across from them. It was easy to walk away from these experiences and think that nothing would change.

I also had meetings with state representatives to vowed to work with me and did.

Image: Three women seated around a table. Annie Hughes and Rebecca Davis meeting with policy staff at Indiana Statehouse.

Over time and with the help of Indiana State Senator Mark Stoops, and his brilliant policy director, LeNee Carroll, Indiana made changes to its Birth Defects Registry (worst. name. ever.). We got CVI and visual impairments added. We were able to advocate for and to build a system of early intervention services specifically for children with vision loss.

We (that wonderful TVI, Annie Hughes, an agency called Visually Impaired Preschool Services, and a group of kickass families) changed the way things were.

It can be done.

After your interaction with the cranky legislator who does not want to fund more services for children with special needs, you can tell Rep. Cranky to go to CVI Momifesto to meet more parents of children with CVI and to learn more about what they have gone through. The stories here can provide back up.

There is more back up on the way. 2018 will indeed be a turning point in the awareness of CVI. Many CVI moms are working to make sure of this.

Hello fellow families of glorious children who happen to have Cortical Visual Impairment,

It’s IEP season at our house!

That festive time of year parents of students with special needs eagerly anticipate with the kind of glee small children save for Santa.

Deck the halls with articles about neuroplasticity and webinars on Orientation and Mobility….Fa La La La and the CVI Range….. Ho Ho, ah phooey.

I can’t fool you. I am not jolly.

Technically, it’s always IEP season at our house because I continue learning what I have to ask for and how to advocate for my complicated girl with a brain based vision impairment not currently acknowledged by the vast majority of school systems in the U.S. More importantly, it is not acknowledged by, or regulated in, the current laws of Special Education.

Ho Ho – Holy Crud, this is hard.

(To get us all on the same page, here’s a very basic definition of an IEP.

“IEP stands for Individualized Education Program. An IEP is a written statement for a child with a disability that is developed, reviewed, and revised in a meeting in keeping with certain requirements of law and regulations.

The IEP has two general purposes:

(1) to establish measurable annual goals for the child;

(2) to state the special education and related services and supplementary aids and services that the public agency will provide to, or on behalf of, the child.

When constructing an appropriate educational program for a child with disability, the IEP team broadly considers the child’s involvement and participation in three main areas of school life:

Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Especially when it comes to CVI. We have a long, bumpy road ahead of us, but we are the ones getting educated about CVI. We are the ones seeking out experts, reading journals and books.

(Speaking of BOOKS, Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s NEW book, Cortical Visual Impairment: An Approach to Assessment and Intervention, 2nd Edition is out!!!!

We moms and dads are critical members of our children’s IEP teams. We stay up late researching articles on CVI and our children’s other needs and diagnoses. We print them out the night before. We highlight and staple the articles filing them in manila folders with our children’s names written neatly on the tab. This is our attempt to have some control over a situation in which we have nearly no control whatsoever. (Or maybe it’s just me.)

Image: A haggard woman in sunglasses holding stacks of research in each hand prior to an IEP meeting.

I am a perpetual optimist, much to the annoyance of my husband and some of my friends. Yet, despite my tendency to be ridiculously optimistic in the face of dire circumstances, I am worn down by years of IEP meetings that seem to go nowhere.

I have not learned the skill of successful IEP planning. I am embarrassed to admit this. My daughter is now 11-years-old and I still feel inept and ineffective. I feel as though I should be smarter than this.

Googling “IEP assistance” brings up many, many resources for IEP writing and advocacy. I suppose I am in good, if frustrated, company.

In spite of plenty of effort and research, I haven’t been particularly successful in articulating how Eliza needs to learn and how the school needs to put it in place. I’m worn down by giving each new school and each new teacher the benefit of the doubt for a few months, then discovering that the implementation of what we put in the IEP was not carried out. I’m worn down by insisting that she can learn more than the school thinks she can (“The downward spiral of low expectations.”). I am worn down by seeing stacks of articles I printed out, untouched on someone’s desk. Or, never seeing them again.

Every year I spend hour after hour attempting to convince, cajole, and then, demand that the school team learn about how CVI is an obstacle to my child’s ability to learn and WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT. I have hired private consultants and therapists with money I do not have. I have documented the progress we make at home to take to school to show what Eliza can accomplish with mutual goals, high expectations, and a common understanding of how to navigate Cortical Visual Impairment because it is an issue every waking second of her day – much like my typical vision is with me every waking second of my day.

Meetings are planned. School staffs are polite and weary. Meetings end. Everyone needs to get back to their jobs. We agree to disagree. I refuse to sign the document, or sign in partial agreement with my handwritten list of concerns.

The NEXT IEP meeting is scheduled in a couple of weeks so we can all jump back into the ring and continue the match.

And, before I know it, another year has passed. I have been humored and circumvented without even realizing it.

I drag myself home after another IEP meeting to nowhere like the last contestant in a 24 hour dance marathon. I’ll crawl into a quiet place to sit and stare vacantly for awhile. (Sometimes I find myself mumbling, “The horror, the horror…” Ok, that was a slight exaggeration. Maybe, “the frustration, the lack of understanding…access…..it’s about access, dang it” Yes, that’s more like it.)

One night as my husband was coolly observing what used to be the dining table (see above), but is now my Command Center For Changing Education As We Know It For Children with CVI – (too much?) – he commented,

“It’s like Death by IEP.”

And, suddenly my world made a little more sense.

So, now CVI Momifesto has a new category for all of the fun, D-I-Y projects that are our children’s IEPs. This category will be a place to tell the IEP stories and to share what works and what really doesn’t work.

Image: A post-it note with the words “This is baloney” written on it. The post-it note is on a copy of an IEP.

To be continued…..

Good morning fellow families of lovable kiddos who happen to have Cortical Visual Impairment!

This morning’s Mom on Monday is Rachel from Maryland. Rachel’s son, Henry, was identified fairly recently as having the characteristics of CVI. Rachel hit the ground running educating herself and advocating for her son and our children at the National Institutes of Health. (See a photo that will make your day below!)

Right now, I am the closest I’ve ever been to truly knowing my son.

My sweet, joyful, funny Henry who is always ready for a hug, a dance party, or a bus ride, but so often is frustrated to the point of tears by the mundane challenges that other 5 years olds negotiate so effortlessly.

Since he was born, we have puzzled over Henry’s vision problems, coupled with developmental delays and behavioral outbursts. Then, only 8 months ago, for the first time, a therapist suggested he had the characteristics of CVI. This moment changed everything.

Rachel and Henry schooling the medical community about the characteristics of CVI at the National Institutes of Health. How cool is this picture?

Henry’s vision was always a mystery—at least that’s what every doctor told me.

We saw a pediatric ophthalmologist, neurologist, neuro-ophthalmologist at Children’s National in DC, pediatric genetic ophthalmologist at the National Institute for Health, and no one ever mentioned CVI. This included a series of vision teachers that had worked with Henry since he was 1. So of course, I took the wait-and-see approach. If these doctors and teachers aren’t sure, then Henry’s vision must be a mystery. (Yep, that’s me screaming right now. The daily anger has not yet subsided.)

Our appointments were dominated with conversation about Henry’s ocular issues: his nystagmus and pale, small(ish) optic nerves. Henry also has hypotonia (low muscle tone), vestibular processing issues, and global developmental delays (high fives to all you CVI parents who spend the evenings and weekends at therapy appointments!).

We spent Henry’s first two years of life trying to get him to eat enough. He was in the zero percentile for weight for way too long. By now, he eats nonstop, and we are grateful to be out of survival mode. Like we all have heard, our kids are unique cases, complicated, with a lot of things going on.

But this still doesn’t justify why CVI was not on our radar sooner (I still kick myself for not figuring out on my own that he has CVI).

So back to this moment that changed everything. Henry was in a Pre-K program for students with special education services. His teacher kept asking me about his vision and I kept going back to Henry’s primary ophthalmologist, who told me that his vision was fine (yes, his acuity was in the normal range) and that Henry has attention and behavioral issues that need to be addressed. I naively told Henry’s teacher this and I am forever grateful that she did not listen to me. She got a specialist from the vision office to observe Henry who then recommended him for the Vision Pre-K class.

At Henry’s IEP meeting 8 months ago, one of the vision teachers at the table said, “You know, Henry has characteristic behaviors of CVI.”

I sat there, mouth open, frozen with confusion, and muttered, “What is CVI?” I later learned that this TVI attended a CVI training with Dr. Sandra Newcomb, one of the leading experts on CVI who also recently completed Henry’s CVI Range Assessment—Henry’s in Phase 2 (Roman-Lantzy).

From what I hear from CVI parents across the country, a TVI knowledgeable about CVI is the exception. It is unacceptable that our kids do not have access to trained vision teachers who can provide interventions.

We know that our kids can learn to see with the appropriate interventions (Roman-Lantzy), so why, WHY, do universities refuse to include coursework on CVI?

A side note on Henry’s current Vision Pre-K class. Henry’s teacher is a TVI knowledgeable about CVI. The physical environment is CVI friendly and all tasks are modified for Henry’s CVI. There are 8 students in the class with a range of vision issues, half of which have CVI. The school’s OT, PT, and Speech therapists adapt their work based on Henry’s CVI needs. Even the PE teacher develops activities adapted for the blind and visually impaired. I know, is this for real? It is. Henry’s placement is an anomaly in this country. Every child with CVI deserves this opportunity. Unfortunately, this vision program stops at Pre-K and because Henry is low-incidence (I. Hate. This. Term), he has fewer options available for Kindergarten. So I join the ranks of fierce parent advocates to ensure my son’s needs are met and that he has access to all aspects of the learning environment.

It’s been a whirlwind trying to learn as much as I can about CVI, while processing the range of emotions that come with this new diagnosis—gratitude, anger, relief, frustration, excitement, WHY MY SON?!, and hope. Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s brilliance and expertise continues to help me and thousands of families help our kids see.

I know my son now. I know why he doesn’t use or rely on his vision. I know why he has frequent meltdowns and why he has trouble with transitions. I know why he’s never looked me in the eye and why he requires constant hugs. I know why he hates reading books and doing fine motor tasks. I know why he has difficulty with attention and is always on the move. I know why he loves yellow buses and yellow everything. I know why he doesn’t recognize me when I pick him up at daycare. I know why he always holds my hand when ever we are outside or in a new environment. I know why he can’t find something that dropped onto a patterned rug. I know why reading and writing will be a struggle, but he will learn to read and he will learn to write. I know my sweet Henry, I know how to be his parent, and I am filled with immense gratitude.

What has been my one of my greatest joys lately is connecting with CVI moms from across the country. Being able to revel in our shared experiences, to ask questions, share resources and strategies, to get fired-up, and to know that I have these brilliant and fierce woman to lean on, gets me through the exhaustion and unsure moments.

This year is the first of many years of being a CVI tiger mom. To make sure the medical and education fields wake up to CVI, so no parent is ever left wondering why their child’s vision is a mystery. And no parent ever has to sit in an eternal IEP meeting trying to convince the team to take their child’s CVI seriously.

To all the CVI parents out there, the highest of fives. Onward!

Thank you Rachel and Henry!

To purchase your or your child’s own Start Seeing CVI t-shirt, go to https://startseeingcvi.com/buy-the-t-shirt/. Just in time for IFSP or IEP season! Half of the proceeds from purchase will go to support the Pediatric CVI Society, the only non-profit organization dedicated exclusively to Cortical Visual Impairment.

Happy Monday morning fellow families of glorious children who happen to have CVI,

This morning I am so glad to have permission to share the words and the works of a mother who has helped lay the foundation of the Pediatric CVI Society over the past few years. She has made great strides in raising awareness about CVI in her local community through her creative fundraising methods. In addition, she and her oldest daughter, Olivia, have been active in changing societal perceptions of children with special needs.

Anna from Ohio is the mother of three beautiful, energetic children and a RN who teaches student nurses.

In 2013, Anna started a blog, Hope She Smiles (http://oliviacansmile.blogspot.com) to chronicle her family’s experiences after her daughter, Olivia, was born. Anna gave me permission to repost some of her inspiring blog.

Thank you Anna and Olivia!

From September 2013

“Take her home and hope she smiles” was the quote from the Neonatalogist the day after our sweet Olivia was born.

The question that I’ve been asking myself over the past week is, “Where do I start?”

Usually the best place to start is at the beginning, but historically I do not follow the path that is paved. In an attempt to answer questions that I am frequently asked by other parents of children with CVI is, I will focus on the present with the past sprinkled in.

In August of 2007, we didn’t know what Olivia’s future held. We heard news from the NICU team at West Penn Hospital that would change our life forever. After suffering seizures and apnea 12 hours after birth, she was life-flighted to Pittsburgh. Her diagnosis was massive stroke in utero, cause undetermined.

What did this mean for her, her development, and her quality of life? We had so many unanswered questions. As a nurse myself, I struggled with understanding what this meant for a newborn. I knew in that moment that I was not acting as a nurse, but as a mother. A mother? I had only been a mother for 24 hours and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.

SO the present…Where is Olivia now?

With the help of Early Intervention; Occupational, Physical, Speech, Vision therapies, follow up appointments; and a new appreciation for special needs children we were on our way.

She is currently in Phase III of the CVI Range and I know all of the above, plus other things that I will be mentioning in future blog posts, have been instrumental in getting us to this point.

Her main diagnosis resulting from the stroke: Cortical Visual Impairment (CVI). Luckily we were connected with Dr. Christine Roman-Lantzy from the Pediatric View Program when Olivia was only a few days old.

(Dr. Roman) has taught us that the focus should be on her vision, because it CAN improve. This statement gave us extreme hope and determination.

Olivia is in Kindergarten now and is a social butterfly. She is extremely happy and energetic. She can not only smile, but learned to walk, run, jump, ride a bike with training wheels, swim with a life jacket, horseback riding. We have even taken her ice skating.

Our approach to her and her diagnosis is “Let’s try it” Sometimes it is a success and she surprises us beyond belief and sometimes it fails and we vow to try again at a later date.

I believe our nontraditional approach has led us to where we are now.

From September 29, 2013 post entitled “Hope”ful

“Hope” she smiles…

The word hope was a word I used often in my life previous to the birth of my daughter: I hope…we win the game. I hope…I pass my test. I hope…I make a lot of money.”

“Hope” now has an entirely different meaning. My outlook has changed since my first 30 years.

It all changed when I heard those words, “Take her home and hope she smiles.”

Hope has given me the drive to seek out interventions and modalities that will improve Olivia’s life. It has given us strength when the road that we are on proves to be challenging and frustrating. It has secured my belief in the blessings of God.

Hope reminds me that no one is perfect, we all have challenges that we face. I am proud to be helping Olivia meet those challenges head on.

Hope drives me to find a way.

Hope doesn’t come without disappointments. I hope for her to see, talk, read and write like all the other kids. I hope for her to make lasting friendships. Hope-fully these accomplishments will just take a littlemore time.

Lastly, I need to mention what drives hope. What is the fuel that gives us hope? Only one word…LOVE

From September 2013 postA Whole New World

My occupation is an RN. Currently, I work as a course instructor at a school of nursing. My job is to educate future nurses. I spend hours preparing objectives, lectures, exams, quizzes and teaching on the clinical unit.

I admit that I feel guilty that I devote so many hours of the day educating others when I have a child at home in need of learning a basic function–sight.

I am concerned when I send her off to school will she be learning in an atmosphere and a way that CVI children need to learn.

I have to somehow learn to let go and entrust other people, other professionals, to do their job.

But do they really know about CVI and all that it entails? Are they good enough for my child? I believe every parent feels this way regardless of the situation.

I do understand how crucial these early years are in the development of her vision. It can improve. But how?

Traditional methods used for visually impaired children to learn do not work for children with cortical visual impairment. The educators need to realize this and be able…no, willing…to adapt her learning appropriately.

So my goal is to find that way.

Bridging into Phase III on the CVI Range is a miraculous happening for my sweet Olivia. But the road through phase 3 seems to be a very complicated one. One that even the experts in the field don’t know how to conquer.

So I accept that challenge. I vow to find a way. My goal is for Olivia to reach a 10 on the CVI range. A 10 means that she functions as a child with no visual impairment would function. Why not? Why not attempt to reach for 10?

Remembering back to our NICU days about a week after Olivia was born, I remember one of the neonatologist saying to us, “Reach for the stars. If you miss, you have lost nothing.” This became our approach to Olivia and to her future.

Anna was instrumental in raising the funding that allowed the Pediatric CVI Society to achieve non-profit status. Anna and Olivia have done some very creative fundraisers. Even Olivia’s friends have risen to the challenge of supporting the PCVI Society.

In 2015, Anna’s efforts were recognized by the PCVI Society. She was the first inductee to the PCVI Society Hall of Fame.

President Dr. Richard Legge said in his remarks, “Without ever being to a meeting, she dedicated herself heart and soul to making PCVIS a reality.”

I loved her speech about fundraising. I think it resonates for many of us.

We fundraise for Olivia for a better future. I have a confession to make… The fundraising was completely self-serving.

I want better access to pertinent information about CVI. I want access to theprofessionals in the field. I want to know what the newest developments and research shows regarding CVI. I want to know the best interventions that can be used for children with CVI. I want it for myself and others in my place.

From the beginning of this journey I have been hungry. Hungry for knowledge, like most of you here. Parents, teachers of the visually impaired, speech therapists, occupational therapist, physicians, ophthalmologists… we are all want to be fed CVI knowledge. This society can feed us.To start fundraising you first have to be willing to go out on a limb, get out of your comfort zone. Ask for donations. It can be scary, but jump in. We would jump into a pool to save our child if they are sinking to the bottom of the pool. We wouldn’t think twice. Jump in for our children. Save them.Second; share your story, make a connection, and open up. Open up the dialogue with others about what CVI is. Keep your donors in the loop. Keep them informed of the ongoing fundraising, the intent and goals of the society, and the mission statement. This past year, our supporters donated to our cause in good faith. I asked for donations to a Society, that wasn’t even a society…yet! And they did. The American Cancer Society started somewhere. This is our starting place.

Some of our examples of fundraising include a lemonade stand, an apple cider stand, thirty-one fundraiser, Jamberry fundraiser, Arbonne fundraiser. Other donations came from a fundraiser from Olivia’s elementary school, my co-workers that took up a collection for Christmas, other anonymous donations, and those that donated through the go fund me page. Don’t discount small fundraisers because they add up. If we all participate in fundraising, this society can grow even stronger and even bigger, helping more children with CVI.

Did she smile? Yes! And she hasn’t stopped!

This morning’s Moms on Monday is Archer’s mom, Cheyanne, a passionate parent advocate and fellow blogger. Cheyanne started a blog about life with her beautiful boy Archer at http://www.sparkingtheneurons.blogspot.com.

Hello, my name is Cheyanne. I am a mother of a stunning, recently turned 4-year-old boy. His name is Archer. We reside in northeastern Nevada, with the ever important dad, and supportive husband Brandon.

Today I will be sharing some experiences to shed light upon advocacy for Cortical Visual Impairment. But first you need to learn a little more about what is so stunning about Arch!

He loves to be outside, even when it’s below freezing! Some of the things he loves are finding and throwing rocks, digging in the sand and dirt, and catching rays of sunlight. While doing all these fun things, his eyes are often closed, held at half mast, or his head is turned away from the actual action occurring.

The exhilaration of sounds, be that animals or vehicles provide a rich auditory experience sometimes creating little giggles or a deep focus, searching for understanding of the origin. Did I mention all the tactile opportunities an outdoor experience provides?

He enjoys sitting at the edge of a door and being a “gate master” opening and closing the door. Now there are many sensory needs he is meeting here. Including the need for movement, a CVI characteristic!

Recently over holiday break, he was frequently requesting to go outside. We began giving him the prompt of “stand-up and look for the round, gold, door knob.” By golly, there he went up on his own, standing against the door looking for the gold, door knob to twist, and open the door so he can go OUTSIDE! His treasures being with his peers, be that at weekly music class, preschool, or going on playdates.

What makes him laugh the most, deep into his belly is his DAD! Whether they are playing with balls, particularly his soccer ball, Elmo, snuggling and singing songs, or on the ground wrestling, his dad is the one to bring out a true authentic laughing session.

As a family we enjoy our down time together. We find it important in keeping a routine for Archer. Music, friends, school and the red garland lining his babysitters hallway are all important to him. After you finished reading this blog post, I invite you to jump over to his blog and read more stories about him growing into life, by visiting http://www.sparkingtheneurons.blogspot.com.

The day I learned about CVI will be frozen in my memory forever, at least in this lifetime. After months of neurology appointments, weekly EEG’s, and daily steroid shots to get infantile spasms controlled, it came time for our 3 month follow-up Ophthalmology appointment.

It was set to be the second time meeting with this particular doctor. At our first appointment he instantly gained Archer’s attention by making bird sounds! Connecting with our little one meant the world to us and made way for us as parents to relax, slightly! He took time to review the big, scary words that had been entering our life, as label after label kept adding up to be included on intake paperwork.

As parents we decided, that I could handle the “routine follow-up” on my own, and daddy went off to work. Archer and I stopped by the jobsite before the appointment and got a good luck hug and kiss from daddy, then off we went.

After asking some questions I thought were routine…

Does your son like to look at ceiling fans? Does he like to look out the window? Does he ever cover his eyes as if to block out what’s going on around him?

I answered yes to all of these questions.

I added that the red crab on his mobile seemed to catch his eye and make him smile. I explained how we thought it was cute that he blocked his eyes, and joked that was him showing he wasn’t interested in the person trying to “goo-goo-ga-ga” over him.

If you have some knowledge of CVI your light bulb is glowing right now.

And NOW, I know what those questions were leading to.

The delivery of a one-page fact sheet on Cortical Visual Impairment and a referral to the state school of the deaf and blind.

I didn’t understand and was having a hard time letting this information be processed. The doctor re-assured me I would be contacted shortly to get further assistance from the deafblind school. I was in shock, so much shock that emotions were not even present.

I was blank.

I thanked the doctor and assistant, walked out into the lobby to make the routine follow-up and exited the building. Once getting to the car, I slipped into the back seat to breastfeed, my now hungry, fussy baby.

Feeling was coming back to my brain and body. The hollow pit in my stomach started to burn, to pound, and to get tight all at the same time. I knew this was something big, but didn’t quite know the capacity this “new” label would have on our lives.

I decided to comfort myself with some lunch at a local pizza place. Carrying my baby into the restaurant, I quickly ordered and headed to the bathroom to change Archer’s diaper. Now with a full belly and clean bottom he dozed off to sleep.

I slowly unwrapped the folded single piece of paper and began to read. Disbelief struck as I read the tell tale signs of this diagnosis. My throat went dry, paired with my lungs expanding with deep, wide breaths to keep it together in this public place, not wanting to wake my sleeping child. I asked for a to-go box and paid for my food in a cluster of oblivion.

Again, I sat in the backseat with my stunning boy, admiring the silence of his sleep. It was then time to make the hour long drive home. I called my mom to let her know the appointment was over and that we got some news, but that we could talk about it later. I got on the road. Continuing with the wide, deep breaths, I made it through town and onto the interstate.

This is when the floodgates overflowed. I had to pull off at thenext exit and take some time to cry it out.

Cortical Visual Impairment joined the list of diagnoses on this dreary last day of July in 2014. Archer was just shy of 7 months old. At this point his diagnosis list consisted of the following: agenesis of the corpus callosum (ACC), uncontrollable seizure disorder, infantile spasms, periventricular grey matter heterotopia (affecting the occipital lobe), enlarged bi-lateral ventricles, hypotonia, and an undiagnosed genetic syndrome, now determined to be a duplication on his 11th chromosome.

Archer’s team began building in Montana beginning with his primary care doctor and LPN. They stood by our sides and listened to us when we came in for our routine 5-day, 2-week, 6-week checkups. I lost count after that. We knew from the MRI that challenges would be in our future. These two ladies supported us in hoping for our family to have normal, loving experiences with our newborn. They helped us cherish the newness of parenthood and celebrated with us our stunning little boy.

Quickly, within weeks of Arch’s life, the discussion of which specialist to start with arose. Those dreaded developmental checklists began. I didn’t get to give many checks in those days, I resorted to drawing smiling faces and our doctor kindly accepted this display of grief.

I quickly stopped reading my “What to Expect the First Years” book, I think by 8 weeks in.Vision began to be a question I’d say around 4-6 weeks, when my little boy just wouldn’t look me in the eyes while breastfeeding. Occupational Therapy started by 3-4 months of age. He seemed to like the solid red ball. He would turn away with items displaying combinations of colors and patterns. The typical over-stimulating newborn toys! Physical Therapy services also started during the Spring of 2014. Yet, there wasn’t emphasis on incorporating strategies to work with his lack of visual engagement.

In August of 2014, we were connected with the state school for deaf and blind and had our first home visit, Archer was 7 months old. APH materials started coming, including a light box. Our biggest struggle was figuring out how to position either Arch or the materials for the best visual access.

We sheeted parts of our home in black fabric, Grandma’s too. We built a little black room for Archer to “play looking” in! It felt as if everything was being forced and nothing came naturally. We lined his highchair tray with black and adhered red duct tape around the edges. We put up a black tri-fold board at the dinner table, or anywhere he was exploring to reduce complexity.

All of these supports had been set-up, before we even opened a case with the state early intervention program. We were ahead of the curve!

By this point there was a never-ending amount of tabs and bookmarks constantly open on my phone and laptop. My new “hobby” of researching was overtaking my mind. Once the official “Cortical Visual Impairment” diagnosis sank in, we began seeing CVI, learning the 10 characteristics. Surprisingly with CVI being the #1 leading pediatric visual impairment in first world countries, we felt like the experts. Even more knowledgeable than most of the service providers, including neurology and ophthalmology, besides our TVI!

Our TVI was calm, quiet, gave wait time, and slowly educated me. She intervened with Arch without overloading him. He began to look at the big yellow bird puppet as she slowly moved it to identify strong visual fields. He started to look at mylar on the light box! She had been asking me questions that I didn’t always have answers to. For some I had clear definitive answers! Over a few visits I found out this was her slowly conducting the parent interview questions from Dr. Roman’s CVI Range! It was overwhelming at the time, but set a solid foundation for us to grow from. We found a conference to attend with Dr. Roman and had his first CVI range conducted.

Then we moved to Nevada, a state that is about 30 years behind the curve in vision supports. They have ocular VI knowledge, just not neurological CVI. It wasn’t taught in their VI programs.

I was the solo expert of CVI on the team. It felt like I was the solo expert of CVI in the state.

Goals and strategies were set and CVI remained at the forefront of services. There was consideration for most characteristics, besides the most in depth concept of complexity, especially sensory and auditory. He gained visual skills, but his auditory reactions were heavily out weighed. When items were presented with noise and banging he was sure to look.

I’ve heard Dr. Roman say over and over “vision must precede the action” and sadly this was not the case. The providers were open to learning, yet their caseloads were stacked so high it left little down time for “extra” learning outside of the homevisits.

Archer transitioned out of EI in Jan 2017, we had the transition meeting, but his seizures returned and we choose to deny services until the Fall. This gave us time to get his health understood before adding more over stimulating situations.

Upon entrance to the early childhood center in Fall of 2017 I learned I was not doing enough to advocate for my child’s needs. Advocacy begins in your home, with our family and friends. It is all too easy to clam up and keep quiet. Sometimes feeling like you are explaining things over and over, then these people are close to you so offense is taken. The challenge exists consistently.

Fear overtakes you when meeting the milestone of another person becoming the teacher of your child. And for most of us, the services list is long, and teams are big, making advocacy more daunting. You can feel like you aren’t a part of a team but the outsider.

Mouths drop when I mention CVI accommodations, maybe because they can’t believe I’m requesting, or because the knowledge to understand CVI just isn’t there.

The team listens, it just takes awhile for the concepts to be put into practice. I initiated a CVI schedule built around his school day. I requested a CVI endorsed team member and CVI Range assessments. They are all willing and open to learn, in fact 3 team members are expanding their knowledge by taking the Perkins 8-week CVI course! We must start somewhere and that is with our voice as our child’s advocate.

Looking back at our short journey of 3.5 years with CVI, in the beginning I wish I would have put more emphasis on latency. Waiting longer for him to visually engage. NOT impatiently providing auditory cues just to get a reaction.

If your child has recently been identified as having CVI, first, just breathe. Then cry. Then go outside and take a refreshing walk. Allow yourself to cycle through the grief.

Get connected. You may not understand the language, you will feel like you are studying to become a Ph.D. Your head will feel like it explodes, not on a daily basis, but possibly with each paragraph you read.

Keep going. Ask the questions.

Ask service providers what their knowledge and understanding of cortical visual impairment is. Ask if they have ever worked with a CVI student. You are not alone and your child has the right to receive appropriate CVI interventions.

For people that have never heard of CVI, may you know my child sees.

Cortical visual impairment creates challenges with the neurological visual processing of images. To help him understand his environment, use simple language to identify what is going on. He is always listening. There is no need to be loud or make extra sounds. He will giggle at abrupt sounds. Help him connect the sound with the visual components by explaining what he is hearing or seeing.

It is my hope you have read to the end! It is my dream you will share this knowledge with others and keep the conversation going about this underserved population of children with CVI, the #1 pediatric visual impairment in 1st world countries.

Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are Anger and Courage.

Anger at the way things are, and Courage to see that they do not remain as they are.

-St. Augustine of Hippo

I heard this quote during a presentation a couple of weeks ago. I really needed it this week.

It was a week of preparation for the next round of IEP meetings for my daughter. As is the new (ab)normal at times like this, I feel overwhelmed, underprepared, and anxious about what comes next. Every time we go over a new report, we have to compare it to the old reports and I am reminded of what I didn’t know then and then I wonder how much I just don’t know now. It’s very busy in my head right now. Reading over past notes and goals I disagreed with leave me frustrated.

I feel like a clenched fist with hair.

(And, nothing else gets done. Laundry? Groceries? You mean we still have to wear clothes and eat? Haven’t you people done that enough already? There are reports to read, questions to ask, and schools to visit, dang it!)

Thankfully, it was also a week in which I was able to participate in a conversation with a group of mothers and a dynamic TVI. These ladies are determined to make 2018 the year we DO something about CVI on a grand scale here in the U.S. Listening to the passionate ideas coming from them made me smile and left me with more than a little more optimism than I had that morning.

Now, I feel like a clenched fist with hair and optimism.

This past week, while preparing for the uncertain transition facing my family, I also found myself impressed with the resolve of the CVI families’ growing efforts to raise awareness and to change the current systems of service for our children.

You could say I was living between Hope’s two beautiful daughtersif you wanted to be particularly cheesy and need to find meaning in everything you read or hear. I am particularly cheesy. I do obsessively look for meaning in everything I read or hear (I wrote the St. Augustine quote on my hand so I wouldn’t forget it, for Pete’s sake. Now I’m wondering – shouldn’t it be that “Hope has two beautiful parents”? Wouldn’t that make more sense? That Hope is the result of Anger and Courage? Will I be struck by lightning for questioning a saint? Probably. I warned you it gets busy in my head. My apologies to St. Augustine.)

As the mother of child with multiple special needs and a vision processing disorder few people understand, I am familiar with anger.

The fundamentals we want for our children are that they are protected, capable, and educated to the best of their abilities. Easy enough, right? (Cue the hysterical laughter. I’ll wait while you catch your breath.)

For parents like us, this includes the extra full time job of raising awareness and educating everyone we come into contact with that – say it with me – CVI is the #1 pediatric visual impairment in First World Countries.

If you are familiar with anger as well, WELCOME. You are in good company.

Anger is an energy. (My apologies to Johnny Rotten.)

Anger is a building block for Hope.

There is plenty to be hopeful about.

Conversations are happening between families and agencies in the blindness community. These families are acting straight from the heart out of the all too common mixture of love and frustration we feel as we force the world to recognize Cortical Visual Impairment and our children.

Soon, there will be a need to ask for more families to reach out, to ask questions, to make themselves and their stories known.

This growing group of parent advocates and TVI will be asking you to join us. We will need you to reach out to agencies, legislators, and others to educate them about CVI, to let ourselves be counted, and to let them know that our children matter.

We will provide the information you need to feel well-equipped to share your stories.

I hope you will allow yourself to be included.

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This is where the courage part comes in.

You may not think that you want to be someone who will stand up and be counted.

I think that you already are.

Brene Brown, the author and research professor widely known for her work studying courage, vulnerability, empathy, and shame, describes courage this way:

“Courage is a heart word.

The root of the word courage is cor – the Latin word for heart.

In one of its earliest forms, the word courage meant “To speak one’s mind by telling all one’s heart.”

“Speaking from our hearts is what I think of as ‘ordinary courage.’”

As a CVI parent, you operate from the heart every. single. day.

Every time you make the attempt to educate a doctor or a teacher about CVI, you are speaking from your heart, You are being courageous.

And, you are making it easier for the mom who will come after you.

Reading this post, researching online, following FB conversations, making D-I-Y materials to accommodate your child’s level of vision – all of these activities come straight from your heart. Through love, you perform acts of courage every day.

Join us as we speak from our hearts, taking our ‘ordinary courage‘ to a wider audience.

Your information will go on a growing list of families facing the same challenges. The information will not be given to any other agencies. This is a mom fueled project. We will use the information to keep you updated on future opportunities to advocate.

I read your letter on the APH Facebook page about all the exciting things APH is doing in 2018 to “Make Big Things Happen”. As the mother of two boys who are blind, the information about advances in technology that will be highlighted and promoted in the new year was exciting. One of my sons is totally blind and gifted. He will benefit from the innovative technology that brings the written and graphic world quite literally to his fingertips so that he can access the same information as his peers.

Both of my sons are adopted, and spent their early years in orphanages in China where they were left to exist with no interventions, no education, no access to the world around them. The nannies in their orphanages loved them, I am sure, but had no ability to ‘break down the barriers of accessibility’ for them. They lived in a country where children who are blind are not educated, and are thought to be ‘less than’ the typical population of children.

People did not understand them, and gave them less than adequate tools to prepare them for learning and thriving. They were left out of most of what went on around them. And then, they were adopted, came home to a family with a mother who is a Teacher of the Visually Impaired, and father who is a former Health and Phys Ed teacher at a school for the blind. Their lives changed, and they are now thriving, learning, and in have great potential for success in their lives. Sounds like a fairy tale with a happy ending, right?

For the children with Cortical Visual Impairment in our country, there is no “happy ending.”

Like my sons’ experiences in China they are often left to exist in classrooms and programs where there is little to no appropriate education and have no visual access to the world around them.

They are taught by teachers who have had inadequate instruction in their diagnosis, and treated by medical professionals who often do not understand this complex condition.

Their true potential cannot be known when they are not given a chance to experience it themselves.

‘Band aid’ programming is thrown at them, IEPs and strategies are guessed at and implemented, and team members are satisfied that they are ‘doing the best they can’ to serve the needs of the largest population of children with visual impairments in our country.

And so, when I read your post as a mother of two blind sons, I was of course excited about all APH had to offer for the future. But, to be honest with you, my sons’ needs are well-known to their teachers. They are registered for the Federal Quota, receive all the adaptive equipment they need, and are given appropriate services. Their needs are handled by professionals who write accurate goals, collect specific data, and order necessary materials for them.

At the same time, I read your post as a Teacher for the Visually Impaired, and a Perkins-Roman CVI Endorsed specialist, and I was quite disappointed. Nowhere in your post did you even mention the diagnosis that accounts for more than half of the children with visual impairments in our country. There was not a whisper of new advances in research and evaluations, no talk of new technology such as CVI Connect, no discussion of the growing need to reach the children who are learning to read in new and innovative ways.

Your post screamed of Braille access and instruction and was deafeningly silent on the children who are not taught to use their vision to learn, but are treated as if they have no vision at all. I am privileged to work closely with many parents who are rallying to fight for appropriate services for their children with CVI. Much like Helen Keller’s parents, these parents are not willing to sit back and let the ‘powers that be’ provide inadequate services for their children. They fight long and hard and are met with resistance at every turn, and mostly from the world of educators of the visually impaired. Their voices are getting louder, and their cries are beginning to be heard. Unlike the Kellers, however, many of these families do not have the money or connections to affect real change, but slowly, surely, they are making changes in their children’s lives. Yet, like Helen Keller and her family, who waited years to find an Annie Sullivan, these families are waiting as well. They are waiting for appropriate university programs that will educate future teachers on their children’s visual impairment, waiting for schools and programs to recognize the need for adequate services, and waiting for organizations like yours to put their children at the top of their priority list to ‘Make Big Things Happen’.I write this letter to you as both an Annie Sullivan and a Kate Keller. As a mother of blind sons and a teacher of the visually impaired I know well the roads that both Annie and Kate walked, The road that Annie walked was paved with determination and fortitude. The road Kate walked was paved with tears and desperation for the little girl she loved so deeply. In our country today, there are far too many Kate Kellers whose roads are paved with tears and desperation, as they beg for appropriate services and materials for their children with CVI. The Annie Sullivans are ill-prepared to support those children or are not interested in learning new techniques. And organizations like yours with national and international notability and resources have added to their frustrations and desperation by completely ignoring their children.

As Annie and Kate, I am writing to petition your organization to provide more comprehensive education and materials that will support children with CVI in our country. CVI Connect is one product that can be added to the Federal Quota program to give access to activities and much-needed data to support the students in programs to develop their visual potential. By promoting resources and education in CVI, you will quite literally ‘Make Big Things Happen’ for children, who like my own sons when they sat in orphanages half a world away, have little access to the world. We can do better for our CVI kids, and we can give hope to the thousands of Kate Kellers who cry in desperation for appropriate programming for their children. Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. I would be more than happy to speak with you regarding your commitment to improve the lives of children with CVI through the American Printing House for the Blind’s resources and education.

Since 2018 will be a year for determined (ok, fed up) parents to advocate for our children with CVI, I wanted to start the year with some historical perspective, and, perhaps, a different spin on a very familiar story.

You may recognize the last name of this particular mom from Alabama, just as you would recognize the name of her very famous daughter, Helen Keller.

We all know the story of “The Miracle Worker.” Well, I hope we all do. A few years ago, I learned that one state had dropped Helen Keller, her story and her books (The Story of My Life, Light in My Darkness, Optimism & The World I Live In, to name a few) from their curriculum. I don’t know if this is a common occurrence in today’s elementary schools. I sincerely hope not because the story of Helen Keller’s life and her experiences with her gifted teacher, Anne Sullivan Macy, make for some of the most inspiring storytelling in American history. Anne Sullivan Macy’s own harrowing childhood and fight for education makes her lifelong dedication to Helen Keller even more compelling.

Mark Twain coined the phrase, “The Miracle Worker” after he read of Anne Sullivan’s success teaching Helen Keller, a young deaf-blind child. The Miracle Worker became the title of a play and a movie depicting Anne and Helen’s early days together.

It is a story of hope.

It is a story of determination.

It is a story of triumph over seemingly insurmountable odds.

And, as with every great story, there is more to it.

Before the story of the Miracle Worker could happen, there had to be parents who believed in miracles.

Image: Kate Keller

Image: Arthur Keller

In the 1880’s, after Helen was left deaf and blind following a severe illness at the age of 19 months, Kate and Arthur Keller spent years looking for a teacher who could reach her. Their efforts went directly against popular opinion that children “like Helen” were not teachable.

Kate Keller wrote countless letters to schools and doctors across the country. The Kellers often traveled for days from Alabama to see doctors in the northeast. They spent countless hours and dollars seeking out (often discouraging) “expert” opinions.

Years passed. As Helen grew more isolated, her behavior became more difficult to manage. Relatives called Helen a “monster” and advised them to send her away.

That Helen did not languish in isolation and ignorance is the triumph of her parents who believed that education (in the opinion of the time, “a miracle”) was possible.

Five years passed before the Kellers were introduced to Anne Sullivan. Five years.

(As the parent of a child with CVI and multiple disabilities I have often said that the days last forever, but the years fly by. I think about how long those five years must have been for Kate Keller.)

Image: A young Helen Keller seated on a chair holding a doll on her lap. Anne Sullivan sits on the ground next to her.

Image: Kate Keller, Anne Sullivan Macy fingerspelling into the hand of Helen Keller as a young woman

Helen herself once wrote,

“No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars…or opened a new doorway for the human spirit.”

She could have been referring to her own parents whose dogged optimism found the special teacher who unlocked Helen’s fierce intellect and compassion.

Over seven years ago, when my daughter entered the public school system, I found myself in the uncomfortable position of educating school systems about CVI and convincing people that my daughter can learn if they would learn how to teach her.

I found myself wondering how Anne Sullivan came to work with Helen Keller. I wondered what the Kellers had to go through to find her.

I wondered what Kate Keller went through trying unsuccessfully to communicate with her daughter who could no longer see or hear.

I wondered how difficult it was to hope against hope in an age before the telephone, before IDEA, before the Internet. I struggled to maintain hope and I have those things.

If you are living with a child with CVI (and possibly other disabilities) and you are finding it difficult to find resources or services that can help you and your child, you probably have an idea about how determined and discouraged Kate Keller must have felt at times.

You may recognize how those two conflicting emotions washed over her – buoying her or drowning her – as she watched her once bright eyed daughter lurch through the house, biting and pushing anyone who kept her from getting her way. You may have an idea about how desperate she felt to reach her daughter again.

I do.

As a parent of a child with CVI and multiple disabilities, I am grateful to Kate and Arthur Keller for their tenacity and their sacrifice.

Today’s parents are better equipped to fight battles of education and inclusion because of the struggles of parents like them.

Woodrow Wilson (one of the many presidents Helen Keller met in her lifetime) once said

“The man who is swimming against the stream knows the strength of it.”

In honor of Kate Keller and parents of children with CVI across the country and around the world I’d like to update this quote for you:

The mom who is swimming against the stream knows the strength of it.

From history and from our own experience, we know the strength of the stream….(sing along if you know the words)…. a surprising lack of awareness about CVI in the medical and education communities, too few Teachers of the Visually Impaired, no hard, accurate data on the numbers of children with CVI, too few providers/teachers with the specific training necessary to work with children with CVI, low expectations…..

The miracles are the children themselves.

What we do for them will be the best work we ever do.

Thank you to Ian Christy, Illustrator Extraordinaire, Designer, & Cool Rockin’ Dad for the fantastic illustration in this post!

Imagine you were walking down the hallway of an elementary school. As you walked, you saw brief glimpses through the slender window in each classroom door. In one class, a teacher stands writing at a whiteboard, her students taking notes. In another classroom, children gather on a rug for story time.

In the last classroom on the left, you see a similar scene. Students sitting at their desks, raising their hands, doing their classwork. You notice that one little girl’s desk is surrounded by a single layer of limestone bricks.

The next day, you walk down the hallway again to see the usual business of learning. Some children are walking around their room going from station to station. One class watches the teacher do a science experiment at the front of the class.

In the last classroom, however, you see the little girl’s desk is now surrounded by bricks stacked about 2 feet high. She is sitting quietly. No one seems to notice them. The teacher stands at the front of the class continuing the lesson. The students continue raising their hands.

You become concerned. You return every day. Every day you look into the last classroom on the left. Every day, the wall of blocks gets taller and taller. Every day, the little girl sits quietly, growing more isolated than the day before. Every day, the classroom moves on around her. You begin to feel anxious for the little girl.

She is being walled in, cut off from her teacher, her peers, her classroom, but no one seems to notice. You stand at the window day after day and watch as she disappears behind cold, hard stone.

You knock on the door and ask the teacher why the little girl is being walled in. She looks at you as though you have lost your mind. She cannot see the wall.

You run to the principal’s office to tell him that the little girl is being enclosed in a kid sized stone tower. The principal goes to look for himself. He doesn’t see the wall either.

Every day the wall gets higher.

You demand a meeting with the principal, the teacher, and anyone else who works with this little girl.

You show them pictures of stone walls. You bring them research about limestone. You find articles from education experts who have studied children behind stone walls for decades, and, who have concluded (surprise!) that stone walls make learning very difficult.

Children cannot learn when they are cut off from everyone else. Stone walls = bad for learning.

The team considers your presentation. They reluctantly admit that – maybe – they noticed the wall from time to time. An aide admits she tripped over a brick once but didn’t want to make a fuss about it.

Someone suggests that the stone wall may not be the little’s girl’s only problem.

“Sure,” you reply, “ she may have other issues, BUT, that STONE WALL IS NOT HELPING.”

The educational team takes another couple of weeks to develop a learning plan for the little girl.

Every day, the wall gets higher.

At another meeting, the team tells you that a teacher who works with “stone wall children” will take the little girl out of the stone wall to another room for 30 minutes a week.

“But, she’s sitting behind the wall for every other minute of the school day!”

Then, Rod Serling comes out of nowhere, pats you on the head, and, says, to no one in particular, ” Ladies and Gentlemen, you’re entering the wondrous dimension of imagination….Next stop, the Twilight Zone.”

And, scene.

This seems ridiculous, right? Or, sadly, mind numblingly familiar?

I have spent sooooo much time trying to explain to people that my kid does not have easy access to the world with her visual system.

I have walked by “Library Time” (my personal pet peeve for children with vision loss in a traditional school setting) where I’ve seen children with CVI sitting passively at tables in the back of the library while the librarian reads a book the size of a magazine to the children grouped at the front.

I have found “art projects” in my daughter’s backpack that were clearly colored in by the well meaning aide who finished it while Eliza was self-stimming in the back of the room. (I know this because I went to art time one day and found everyone – Eliza’s aide included- sitting at the table coloring, except my girl, who was laying on the floor, rocking. I cannot make this stuff up.)

How are these examples any more ridiculous than watching in panic as a child is enclosed in stone, a situation that no one else seems to find problematic?

They aren’t.

To my fellow CVI families,

2018 is a new start.

There will be opportunities for us as a community to work together to raise awareness about Cortical Visual Impairment and to demand that our children be educated in a manner in which they can learn.

In this year and every year that follows, we must demand access and expertise.

Our family is having a low key Christmas this year. We are staying home.

For the first time in awhile, when December rolled around I wasn’t filling notepads with lists titled “Gifts,” “Meds and Feeding,” and “Sensory Needs.” I didn’t have to run to Walgreens three times last week to refill prescriptions that always seem to run out if I even think about taking Eliza past the state line. I didn’t have to cram our Christmas magic in the back of the car around the wheelchair, feeding supplies, sensory toys, and our very patient, long suffering dog, Rosie. We did not drive 18 hours this year. Hallelujah, amen, and cue the choir.

And, still, I’m beat. I wonder if you are too.

This week, I heard the song, “Love is Christmas” by Sara Bareilles for the first time. This song just spoke to me. I was compelled to stop and listen. The lyrics felt like better written versions of my own thoughts. Nicely played, Sara Bareilles. It was a poignant reminder of what my priorities are. Stains on the carpet do not even make the list.

Love is who we are, and no season can contain it.This brought to mind all of the parents of children with special needs who make holiday magic happen on top of the other daily responsibilities that don’t go away just because “it’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

Love is how we do, let no judgment overrule it. You know how much effort goes into caring for, researching, advocating for the children who love us and who lead us to be the best parents we can be.

Love is who we are. Yes, I think that sums it up nicely.

If you are feeling worn down this holiday season, I offer you “Love is Christmas” from one mom to another. Sorry about the ads. Totally worth waiting those extra 5 seconds.

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AND, if you are looking for something to watch during all of your down time in the next week (Ahahahahaha! Whew, that was a good one.), may I suggest this video?

I still have a lot to learn about CVI. So much information about CVI has to be pieced together like a puzzle for each individual child. Every child is different. Every manifestation of CVI is unique to each child.

I always find Dr. Dutton’s presentations very educational. It is good information to pass on to an early intervention or an education team.

Toward the end, he emphasizes the importance of being “radio parents.” I had never heard this term before, but it made a lot of sense.

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From one mom to another, I wish you and your family love and joy this holiday season and into the new year.

Good morning fellow moms and dads of delightful children who happen to have CVI,

Today’s MOM is Lola’s mom, Meredith from Indianapolis, Indiana.

Meredith has become a super advocate for her daughter and for young children with visual impairments in Indiana and Kentucky. She is one of the driving forces behind Visually Impaired Preschool Services Indiana (VIPS Indiana), a non-profit agency that provides ongoing, best practice early intervention for infants and toddlers with severe vision loss. She is also one fierce rooftop hockey player.

I got to meet Meredith and Lola through VIPS Indiana when Lola was a baby. It is hard to believe that she will be 7 in January.

What does Lola like to do? What makes her laugh? What are her favorite activities, foods, etc?Lola loves to do most anything that involves being outside. She loves parks, playgrounds, swimming pools and she especially likes to help walk the dogs around the neighborhood.

Lola adores her brother although sometimes she doesn’t understand what it means to give him space so she easily annoys him. Their relationship is much like any other sibling connection; they love each other one minute and are fighting the next. Lola especially likes clothes and shoes. We never really knew if Lola could identify colors since she can’t articulate it, but it has become very clear that yes she can absolutely differentiate colors as she hates pink and purple! She wants to wear blues and greens much like her brother. I’m so proud that she can now take off and put on her own clothes—I just wish she’d stop doing it 18 times a day!

Lola’s father makes her laugh like no one else. Now that she is paying attention more to her surroundings, she’ll start laughing when she sees or hears us laughing and the next thing we know—we are all laughing hysterically and we don’t really know why! It’s very sweet!

Lola loves almost all food but her favorites are cookies, pizza, chips, grapes, spaghetti and cereal bars. She doesn’t care for raspberries or watermelon. I wish her weight reflected her love of food—we’ll keep trying to get some meat on her bones though!

What do you like to do as a family?As a family, we like to find playgrounds that are visually accessible for Lola. It’s sort of become a weekend hobby which is fun because we have learned where to take her and where to stay away from. She really needs high contrast in order to keep from getting bumps and bruises. We try to not keep her in a bubble since the world itself is not Lola-safe, but when she is on a playground that is all brown—for instance—she really struggles.

We also like to go to places like Monkey Joe’s or sensory-friendly gyms. Lola’s ability to sit and partake in an activity with us has increased dramatically over the last year so we’ll play her favorite game which is Hungry Hippo and she likes to color as well as play with Play-Doh. She also loves going to her grandparent’s house so many weekends are spent with them as well.

When did you first learn about CVI?You know, I had a feeling something was wrong with Lola’s vision from the very second I laid eyes on her after she was born. I was always told that we would immediately lock eyes which indicated, “I am yours and you are mine” but Lola never looked at me. I gave birth to Lola in Costa Rica as my husband and I were living there at the time. My nurses didn’t speak any English so I wasn’t entirely sure what to ask.

Lola’s Apgar scores were perfect and the OB-GYN assured us that Lola was a healthy baby girl. We took her home and waited for the eye contact to kick in, but it never did. She sort of looked over our heads as if she was looking at a ghost standing behind us. She also wasn’t reaching for toys and she wasn’t tracking. My mother’s instinct kept telling me something was wrong and I was right.

Lola started to have infantile spasms when she was four months old and treatment to get the seizures under control began immediately. I started researching other symptoms associated with infantile spasms and I came across cortical visual impairment (CVI). When I read the characteristics, I knew right away that Lola had CVI.

How were you given the diagnosis?As I mentioned Lola was diagnosed with infantile spasms by a neurologist in Costa Rica who was incredibly knowledgeable and supportive. When Lola was about seven months old, Dr. Luna gave Lola the CVI diagnosis yet we were less than shocked as we already suspected she had CVI.

Does your child have other diagnoses you’d like to mention?Lola has an extremely rare genetic condition called Bosch Boonstra Schaaf optic atrophy syndrome. There are only about 40 in the world with the condition although as genetic testing becomes more available, researchers believe several hundred will be identified. So I thought Lola just had these two conditions, infantile spasms and CVI, I did not realize they were actually “symptoms or characteristics” of something bigger. As it turns out—they are. Lola’s seizures are under control, but she still has CVI, hypotonia, global developmental delay, nystagmus, autism, and more. She sounds complex and I suppose she is, but to us—she’s just Lola.

How was your child’s Early Intervention experience with regard to CVI? Are you ready for a shocker? After Lola completed her steroids for the infantile spasms, she was immediately referred to a therapy clinic. When we first walked up to the house (which looked like any other Costa Rican house), I immediately wondered 1) if we were in the right place and 2) how on earth would anyone in this place be able to help my baby? I was grossly mistaken as we met Lola’s very first physical therapist, Moises.

At Lola’s very first appointment, Moises stood at a whiteboard and explained exactly what CVI was to us—graphics and all! It was so comforting to have this information even as upsetting as it was. I learned right then and there something that has stuck with me at every turning point in this journey and that is; knowledge equals empowerment. When you give me information, I feel confident that I can do something with it. And so Lola began to see Moises once a week for PT, but working on her brain “learning to see” was always an integral part of her therapy sessions. She also began to see the occupational therapist, Melissa, who again, challenged Lola’s visual pathway during every single session. We couldn’t have asked for better providers during those early months and we are forever grateful.

Were your providers knowledgeable? Were they open to learning? Moises and Melissa were more than knowledgeable when it came to CVI. They didn’t have to learn a single thing because they truly understood how CVI was impacting Lola’s development. It was rather impressive especially for being in a foreign country.

So as wonderful as the healthcare system was for Lola in Costa Rica, we knew that long-term it would be better for her to live in the U.S. We moved back to Indianapolis when Lola was just under a year-old. We immediately enrolled her in First Steps, Indiana’s early intervention system.

In First Steps, we had access to a PT, an OT and a speech therapist, but when I inquired about who would be helping us with Lola’s vision loss, I was told there wasn’t really anyone. I called around and found that information to be true and, ultimately, very shocking. How could we have better therapists for Lola’s vision in Costa Rica than the United States? It made no sense to me. But I wasn’t going to give up as I knew how important the first three years of Lola’s brain development was so I persisted until I found someone to help. I met Annie Hughes who was a Teacher of Blind/Low Vision andshe worked for Visually Impaired Preschool Services (VIPS), a nonprofit that provides early intervention to young children with vision loss. Vision-specific home visits began and I finally felt as if we found exactly who we were looking for as Ms. Annie was more than knowledgeable!

How do you feel CVI is addressed in your child’s school setting?Lola attends an Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) center called Access Behavior Analysis in Indianapolis. While the therapists at Access had not worked with a child who had CVI prior to Lola, they were more than open to learning about it and how to set Lola’s environment up so she could thrive. After some lacking in the public school system, Lola will now have access to a Teacher of Blind/Low Vision who will consult with the center so that everyone understands Lola’s vision loss and how to make the proper modifications for her vision.

What do you know now that you wish you had known at the beginning of your journey as Lola’s mom?This is a good question. I guess I wish I had let go more. That probably sounds ironic given that as a special needs parent, we may never truly let go, but I wish I didn’t worry myself sick so much. It was all so unknown and unexpected, but Lola was my baby so how could I not worry?

I just wish I would have spent less time immersing myself in the internet and more time enjoying Lola for exactly who she was. I wanted answers though. I wanted to know what her future looked liked. I always wanted someone to look in their crystal ball and tell me that Lola was going to be OK and, of course, nobody ever could. Sure I still worry, but I’m not debilitated by it. I acknowledge that some days will be tough, but they are few and far in between now and I’m very grateful for that.

I also acknowledge that CVI is not the only reason why Lola is delayed. Sure it is part of it, but I have now recognized that Lola is delayed because of her genetic condition. When she wasn’t walking at the age of three, I’d say, “She’s not walking because she’s visually impaired.” Now, I know that children who are completely blind can still walk even at an early age. I just wasn’t really willing to accept that she will always be delayed in some way, but that doesn’t mean she stops progressing. We celebrate the big, gigantic milestones as well as the tiny, most wouldn’t even notice inchstones! They all matter to us!What would you tell a mother whose child has just been identified as having CVI?You are not alone is the very first thing I would say. I think I would say please try your absolute hardest to not compare your child with others who have CVI (or even neuro-typical kids as well) as it’s just not healthy for you. I would also say that it does get easier over time. I remember when the ophthalmologist said Lola was legally blind and I about lost it, but what I realized is that Lola was still Lola. Those few extra words didn’t change a thing in that very moment. And honestly, having diagnoses will give your child access to MORE therapies and services. But I used to worry about CVI every day when she was little and now it’s not the first thing on my mind when I wake up. In fact, it’s the one of the last things I think about because CVI is just a part of our lives now.

What would you like for people who have never heard of CVI to know?I would probably give them my normal CVI spiel about what CVI is, that many times CVI can improve over time (Lola can now see something as small as a raisin on the floor), that even though Lola’s vision has improved she still struggles greatly with her vision, and I’d like them to know that I have no idea how Lola sees the world. I’m willing to give just about anything to have a glimpse of how Lola interprets her surroundings, but I realize that may never happen.

Anything else? Hopes and dreams?I think we are inundated with what society believes “success” of a child is. It means straight A’s, Honor Roll, graduating from high school, going on to college, finding a love to marry, having children, finding a career, and lots of other stuff in between. I’ll admit that I drank the Kool-Aid, too. When I was pregnant with Lola, my dreams for her were different than what has become her reality, but it’s OK.

Success for Lola means she’s happy, healthy, she loves, and she is loved. That’s all I want for her. Well, I kind of want her to move out someday, too, so I can catch up on nearly seven years of interrupted by Lola sleep!! But in all honesty, I just want Lola to be in a safe environment where people who know and love her look after her. I’m often asked if Lola will live with us forever and my immediate response is “HELL NO!” Now that’s not because I wouldn’t want Lola to live with us until the day I die, but how unfair would that be for her? She’s only six and she already wants to be out of the house so imagine when she’s 22. While she has her challenges, she knows she wants independence and we are going to honor that. She will always need help, but I will die more peacefully knowing that I have her support system in place so that she can live life without me. That’s so hard to write and perhaps I’m sharing too much, but my job as her mother is to think about her future. And Lola’s future will include lots of caring people because it does indeed take a village the size of China when you have a child with special needs.

Time is a precious commodity in the lives of parents of children with special needs.

The never-ending loop of Christmas songs in every public place and the constant parade of UPS trucks in your neighborhood means holidays are just around the corner.

During the holidays, the disruption of our routines and schedules makes life more stressful and time even more precious.

Dr. Roman-Lantzy says, “CVI moms are the busiest people I know.” Now is not the best time to be writing up your story for a blog for other parents. You are in the throes of making holiday magic happen for your family. That is what we do.

Since I have posted all of the Moms on Monday stories sent to me thus far, I will be today’s MOM. And, because, I am today’s MOM, this post is late because that is how I roll (or write, or whatever, you know what I mean).

Maybe, after the holiday festivities are over, in the calm of the new year, you will consider sharing some of your stories with us.

Introduction: I am Rebecca, Eliza’s mom. She is 11 years old. We live in Virginia.

(Fun fact: Over the past 11 years, we have lived in 4 states. Eliza was born in California. She received early intervention in California and Indiana. She has attended schools in Indiana, Kentucky, Florida, and Virginia. Out of necessity, I have learned a lot about the differences between states in early intervention, early education and public school services. And, BOY, are there differences.)

Here she is at about 11 months old.

About your child: What does she like to do? What makes her laugh? What are her favorite activities? What do you like to do as a family?

Eliza is a social, curious and loving kid. She loves to be near other people, especially other children. Listening to other children playing makes her very happy. Her older sister is her favorite person on the planet. Eliza’s dad can make a noise that makes Eliza giggle like crazy every time. Her favorite activities include going for a walk, swinging, listening to music, swimming, and jumping on a trampoline. As a family, we go to the park and take long walks outside when weather permits. We also take her to the pool as often as we can.

She LOVES music. We spend a ridiculous amount of time changing the songs on her IPad or her CD player. If I never hear Waterloo by ABBA again, it would be too dang soon. I have Ziggy Marley’s Family Time album playing in my head right now. Also, I think we paid for Laurie Berkner’s car by incessantly playing her YouTube videos. You’re welcome, Laurie Berkner. My older daughter and I can sing a Laurie Berkner medley at any given moment. Not everyone can say THAT, now can they? Silver linings and such.

When did you first learn about CVI? How were you given the diagnosis?

We knew before Eliza was born that she would have some challenges ahead. We just didn’t know exactly what those challenges would be. We were given the grimmest prognosis during the third trimester of my pregnancy before we even got to meet her. That’s another story entirely.

At 4 months old, Eliza wasn’t tracking anything. We took her to a pediatric ophthalmologist who called it Delayed Visual Maturation and told us her vision would eventually develop normally.

We received a diagnosis, but, we also got the expert opinion from the neuro-ophthalmologist.

His expert opinion: CVI may improve. It may not. There is nothing you can do about it. Wait and see. Take her home, treat her like a blind child, and come back to see me in a year.

And, what do we know now – 10 years later?

He was so very wrong.

I did not know how wrong he was, but, I could not accept that I would just go home and do nothing. Just wait and see? Moms do not work that way. My heart could not accept his “expert” opinion.

I began researching CVI. I bought Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s book. I emailed her. We met her in a hotel room in California where she was attending a conference with her husband, George Clooney. (He loves it when I say that.)

Slowly but surely, we learned as much as we could about CVI and made accommodations to Eliza’s home environment.

AND, a year later, after we had worked on developing Eliza’s vision at home, when we followed up with the same neuro-ophthalmologist, he had this to say:

“I do not understand how her vision has improved so much. I would not have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. I don’t know what you are doing at home, but keep doing it.”

This was when I handed him the copy of Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s book I bought for him.

I told him I knew he couldn’t “fix” CVI. The prescription for CVI is educational modifications and strategies specific to each child’s unique learning needs. It is education for parents, caregivers, and teachers about how the child has access to the world.

I told him I did not expect him to know how to address CVI, but I did expect him to stop telling parents to “Wait and see. There’s nothing you can do.” I expected him to tell parents about educating themselves about CVI and to expect improvement.

He is still speaking to me, so I think it turned out okay.

Does you child have other diagnoses? Yes, microcephaly and pachygyria of currently undiscovered cause, CP, epilepsy, global developmental delay, autism (age 4)

How is/was your early intervention experience? How much time do you have?

A decade ago, there was very little consistent information about CVI on the internet. Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s book was still new. None of the early interventionists in vision loss in California had heard of CVI.

When we moved to Indiana when Eliza was 2 and still eligible for another year of early intervention, I discovered that Indiana did not have ongoing early intervention for infants and toddlers with vision loss. Just didn’t have it.

Indiana offered families of young children with vision loss a yearly – roughly 2 hour- consultation from one teacher. A fantastic teacher (Miss Annie from the Blue Bowl Story), but ONE teacher, nonetheless, for an entire state. She had a caseload of over 300 families.

HOW IS THAT OK?(It’s not, but that is another story entirely. That one has a happy ending, though, for another time.)

Did I mention –

I did the best I could to inform the early interventionists and therapists we’ve had over the years about Cortical Visual Impairment and the importance of ACCESS for children with vision loss.

ACCESS is what it is all about – whether the child has low vision from another diagnosis or CVI.

No therapeutic or educational program is going to work for your child if your child cannot access it. Yes, I’ll keep saying ACCESS until I’m blue in the face or every child has actual ACCESS to learning whichever comes first. (A bluish tinge is more likely I think.)

Imagine you are sitting in a room and the answers to all of life’s most important questions are written on the walls around you – glowing in golden paint. But, when you open your eyes, you see squiggles, shapes, and lines. It could be hieroglyphics for all you know. It has no effect on you whatsoever.

It does not matter how much brilliant, life-enhancing, brain stimulating information is around you, if you can’t reach it.

This seems like common sense. It is. But, it is astounding at how many typically sighted folks cannot learn this lesson.

How is CVI being addressed in your child’s school setting?

I have been the person who has brought up CVI and the issue of access at every IEP meeting we’ve had in every state we’ve lived in. In her current placement, it has taken me the better part of 3 years to get CVI acknowledged, and to get the school district to agree to getting training for teachers, TVI, and support staff. It is an ongoing process. There are ups and downs. I’m learning a lot. That is all I’ve got right now.

What do you know now that you wish you had known at the beginning of your journey as your child’s mom?

Honestly, I wish that I had spent less time seeking out therapy after therapy. I wish I had had regular access to an experienced TVI early on in Eliza’s life who could have told me to slow down. I wish I could go back and tell myself that no one has all of the answers here and to trust myself more.

I wish I had known that the love and bonding time we had were as important as any hour spent in a clinic. I wish we spent fewer hours in a clinic and more hours laying on a blanket watching the clouds float by. Okay, technically, I’d be watching the clouds, but we’d be doing something together.

I also wish I knew as much about CVI as parents today know about it. There has been a lot of new, incredibly useful information to come out of Dr. Roman-Lantzy’s years of study and research, the work of Dr. Gordon Dutton, and Matt Tietjen’s What’s the Complexity framework.

I wish I had asked for more help. I wish more help had been offered.

What would you tell a mother whose child has just been identified as having CVI?

You are not alone. There are resources available. There is a community of parents who have faced similar challenges.

Be gentle with yourself. Be gentle with your child. The foundation of any child’s success is the love and trust that grows between a child and her parent or caregiver. It starts and ends there.

What would you like for people who have never heard of CVI to know?

This is a population of complicated children, many of whom have survived because of the miracle of modern medicine. It is time to recognize them and to rise to the challenge of meeting their needs. There are more children with CVI than you know. We need your help.

Hopes and dreams?

My hope for Eliza is to help her get so independent that she develops her own hopes and dreams and that she has a way to tell me what they are.

One of my dreams is that every child with vision loss (whether or not the diagnosis is CVI) gets the educational support she needs from an early age to become independent, productive, and joyful. Here is my definition of JOY by the way.

P.S. It would also be great if no pediatric ophthalmologist or neuro-ophthalmologist ever again tells a parent of child with CVI that there is nothing she can do.

Be a life long learner about CVI.

Be a life long learner about the brain.

In her presentation at the Northeast AER Conference, Ellen shared information on learning assessments and intervention strategies from her extensive experience as a Cortical Visual Impairment Advisor and a Certified Teacher of the Visually Impaired.

Her audience primarily consisted of TVI and COMS, however, everything about the presentation resonated for me as a parent. Watching presentations from teachers who know CVI always help me broaden my perspective and recharge my batteries. It gets discouraging being the only person at an IEP meeting who knows what Cortical Visual Impairment is and how it negatively impacts my daughter’s learning.

Sometimes, after a particularly frustrating day, I think, maybe, I am just kidding myself. Trying too hard. My girl is a complex kid. She is non-verbal and has an additional diagnosis of autism. We are struggling to find a consistent method of communication. We do not get a lot of eye contact. Interaction takes time and effort. It is hard to read her. It is hard to know what she understands.

It is all too easy to develop low expectations for a complicated kid like her. I have fought against low expectations in IEP meetings and in teacher-parent meetings, yet I have struggled to learn how to reach her myself.

Ellen’s presentation reminded me that this is an ongoing journey.

Regarding the perspective of the parent/teacher:

The importance of presumed competence and eye contact.

CVI masks cognitive ability. Our children are often not able to maintain eye contact. (Children with visual impairments cannot be accurately assessed by traditional cognitive tests. IQ tests are not going to work on this population of children.)

Research has shown that children who do not maintain eye contact get far less social interaction and attention from caregivers and teachers. Be aware of this tendency to interact less with a child who does not maintain eye contact.

Since we cannot tell what a child who is not maintaining eye contact understands, we have to presume that the child understands and continue to teach the child in an accessible way.

If we expect improvements, we will get improvements. The minute we do not have expectations, we are guaranteed not to get improvement.

Read articles and attend presentations. – Research about CVI and the experience offered by CVI Range endorsed teachers will be found at conferences and in journals before you will be able to find it in a book.

Regarding IEPs and Assessments:

The CVI range endorsement is the beginning of your journey NOT the end.

Yes, we need to demand a teacher who has completed the Perkins-Roman CVI Range endorsement, however, it is only the starting point.

IEPs need to say “brain based visual impairment,” when diagnosed, by whom, the score, and the result of the Functional Visual Assessment (as it relates to CVI).

Remember that the parents’ interview gives all important visual history – if vision has improved – consider CVI

Best practice accommodations and modifications should be based on the CVI Range score

Strategies need to be embedded throughout the day

Ellen puts together a salient features presentation so everyone on the child’s educational team uses the same language.

As a consultant, she advises that the IEP includes a 1 hour in-service about CVI and a 1 hour in-service about how CVI affects this particular child

Embed the theory that there is something visual in front of that child all the time.

Use more CVI supports in place when developing weaker visual fields.

Introduce yourself and use the child’s name so she knows you are talking to her

Limit touching and moving children while they are trying to look.

I’ll end with Ellen’s explanation of “infused advocacy,” or teaching the children how to problem solve for themselves.

Parents and teachers can start teaching a child to become a self-advocate by teaching her about the characteristics of CVI and by including her in the process of making her own accommodations and modifications. When a child understands that how she perceives the world is different from other people, she can learn to articulate her unique needs. She could ask other children to say their names when they approach her to help her identify them. She could explain to her mom that cluttered rooms make her feel anxious or scared. She could tell her teacher that new places are confusing and ask for extra time to get to know a novel environment.

This part of a child’s education, learning how to articulate her needs, is so important. We spend so much time talking about the kids. Listening to them (or, in the case of a non-verbal children, quietly observing them) is even more important.

This is a fascinating and busy time in the history of Cortical Visual Impairment. There is a solid foundation of knowledge and a growing current of educational strategies and research. There is an active and vocal community of families around the world. There are teachers who can guide us!

At the center of all of this activity remains the children who have to be equal partners in putting together the puzzle that is their picture of the world.

Good morning fellow families of glorious children who happen to have CVI,

This morning, we have the pleasure of hearing from Krish’s mom, Gunjan. Gunjan has been a force in advancing the work of the Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment Society and in advocating to raise awareness about CVI . At last year’s PCVI conference, she and MaryAnne Roberto, Perkins-Roman CVI Endorsed TVI, gave a presentation entitled Partners on the Journey: A TVI and Family’s CVI Experience from Birth to Age 3. You can find this presentation as a webinar on the Perkins E-Learning site : http://www.perkinselearning.org/videos/webinar/partners-journey-cvi-experience-birth-age-3

Gunjan’s family recently hosted a painting fundraiser for the PCVI Society and raised $1,500. Here are Gunjan and MaryAnne at the fundraiser.

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Gunjan’s determination is proof that “If every parent could make an effort to raise awareness about CVI, to fundraise for the PCVI Society, as well as to challenge their teams to hone their CVI skills, the world might be a better place for our kids.”

Introduction: Gunjan, Krish, 5, Pennsylvania

About your child: Krishy loves to dance, specifically, what I would term as interpretive dance, because he moves with music so well. He loves to watch Super Mario YouTube videos, in other words, watching other people play video games on YouTube. He “practices” playing the games on his IPad by moving his finger, as if he is controlling the game, not the player on YouTube. He loves amusement park rides and most of all, he LOVES playing with his older sister and twin brother. As a family, we do typical family things, like no-pants dance party and going to the playground.

We rarely go to the movies. (We saw Coco yesterday. Krish doesn’t have the core strength to hold the foldable seat down, so he kept getting smooshed in the seat, besides the vision issues, of course, and the cost of taking a family of 5 to the movies!) We definitely avoid large crowds, super-noisy places and anything too physically strenuous (for me or Krish, ha ha) to avoid sensory overload.

When did you first learn about CVI? I learned about CVI the first day that our soon-to-be early intervention vision teacher came to our home for a consult when Krish was around 7 months old. I had told our physical therapist that Krish wasn’t looking at me.

How were you given the diagnosis? We had an amazing teacher of the visually impaired, the famous MaryAnne Roberto, who suspected the diagnosis, and guided us to Neuro-ophthalmology, the Low Vision Clinic, Ophthalmology, and Dr. Roman-Lantzy.

Our Ophthalmologist gave us the diagnosis, even though she didn’t completely understand CVI. She did recognize that she didn’t understand.

Does your child have other diagnoses you’d like to mention? Krish is a former 26 week preemie twin with failure to thrive, mild hypotonic cerebral palsy, chronic lung disease and GERD.

How is/was your child’s early intervention experience with regard to CVI? (Were your providers knowledgeable? Were they open to learning?) We had an AMAZING early intervention experience. Most of our team members were open to MaryAnne’s suggestions of how to improve his PT, OT, feeding, etc. sessions with CVI interventions. (I fired the one who didn’t get it!) MaryAnne had consultation time to work interdisciplinary. We were able to get services for vision without a diagnosis of CVI.

How is CVI being addressed in your child’s school setting? Krish is in his 2nd year of Pre-Kindergarten. I wanted him to get extra time to start learning sight words and other kindergarten skills. He is in a typical classroom. Both his current TVI and classroom teacher have demonstrated time and again their commitment to making him successful. We are starting to use the iPad as his primary learning tool in school to adapt books, etc. He has an occupational therapist who is also an assistive technology consultant (winner, winner, chicken dinner!!) She is helping to prepare him on how to use the iPad independently for learning and to use the best apps.

We recently had a meeting with Dr. Roman-Lantzy and have decided to overhaul Krish’s IEP to include a 1-to-1 aide, so that ALL his materials can be adapted.

What I learned was, just because he can do it, doesn’t mean he should. He can look at a book, he can color, he can look up at a calendar on a complex wall, but doing all the things fatigues his vision and he becomes slower and slower at visual processing. He is quick to fatigue both visually and physically. If we create a CVI schedule and adapt all his materials, he will not fatigue as quickly and can absorb more information.

What do you know now that you wish you had known at the beginning of your journey as Krish’s mom?

In the beginning of this whole process, I wish I could have seen who he has become today.

I prayed and wished he would walk and talk and see, but it was hard to have hope.

I was tired ALL THE TIME.

Also, the CVI resources that exist on the Internet now are amazing. Even just 5 years ago, I couldn’t find the quality information available now.

I would tell a mom whose child was recently diagnosed that whenever you are down-trodden and feel like you can’t verbally describe another illustration from a book or talk about the salient features of a hippo, remember that the vision of children with CVI, especially those who start with appropriate interventions at a young age, does IMPROVE!

Additionally, if your child’s team doesn’t understand CVI, if the IEP doesn’t have CVI strategies that are specific to where your child’s vision is on the CVI Range, if the people who are teaching your child are resistant to learning about CVI, GET A NEW TEAM!Do whatever it takes to fight for your child’s right to learn to see.

What would you like for people who have never heard of CVI to know? If you have never heard of CVI, I would tell you it is more common than anyone could imagine. Every child with CVI looks different. It is a diagnosis that crosses medical diagnoses.

Hopes and dreams? Anything else you’d like to add? Attending the PCVI Society Conference changed my life. It was inspiring to meet families, educators, and medical providers who are motivated to improve the lives of a child like Krish. It made me feel like I could do something to advance the cause of CVI. Also, having Dr. Roman-Lantzy and MaryAnne Roberto as part of our team is like having unicorn glitter in my pocket, just invaluable. Lastly, if every parent could make an effort to raise awareness about CVI and fundraise for the PCVI Society, as well as challenge their teams to hone their CVI skills, the world might be a better place for our kids.

Thank you Gunjan and Krish! May we all find unicorn glitter in our pocket!

You may remember last July, when we discussed a certain resolution that targeted students with cortical visual impairment (CVI), and the CVI Range (Roman-Lantzy). The Resolution was presented at the International AERBVI Conference in Reno, Nevada. Resolution (AER-2018-00) was presented on site without prior notice, without warning, and hastily “passed” (absent members were denied the opportunity to vote). These are extreme tactics that are all too concerning in these political times.

The Pediatric Cortical Visual Impairment Society will convene for its annual conference at the end of this week at the Children’s Hospital and Medical Center in Omaha, Nebraska. As we prepare for an educational and lively meeting, we are revisiting some earlier posts. (http://www.pediatriccvisociety.org/conference/)

Every family with a child with a visual impairment (CVI or ocular) needs to understand incidental learning to be an effective advocate for their child.

This post was published on September 14, 2017.

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Okay, my fellow parents of gorgeous children who happen to have CVI.

Here’s the deal.

We have to speak a common language for advocacy. We have to know some fundamental things about the effect vision loss has on learning to affect change in our early intervention programs and our school systems. We have to talk the talk.

In most cases, we have to teach the talk.

Will it be easy? No, but what else do you have to do?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

(Sorry, I’ll wait while we all catch our breaths from hysterical laughter or choke on a spit-take. I’ll wait while you get a towel. Bonus: Now the floor is clean!)

Knowing how to parent a child with severe vision loss did not come naturally to me. I have typical vision. My daughter was the first blind person I had ever met. At 6 months, when we got the diagnosis of CVI, we were told she was legally blind. We did not know anything about CVI.

What I remember about the first couple of years:

She never looked at me or anything I tried to show her.

Her head hung down all the time. (I thought this was because of the diagnosis of Cerebral Palsy which we also got on around the time she got her diagnosis of CVI. At Christmas time. Ho. Ho. Ho.)

She never slept for more than 3 consecutive hours. (So when people at the grocery store commented on how serene she looked while asleep in the baby carrier on my chest, it was all I could do NOT to scream – “She is not asleep! She never sleeps! Her head just hangs down! All the time! Why won’t she sleep? I’m dying inside! Argh!” To be fair, I was severely sleep deprived. This is against the Geneva Convention, by the way. People have been charged for war crimes for less. Just sayin’.)

I was never more than an arm’s length away, yet I felt as though I was a million miles away from her. (Nothing made me feel more useless than sitting on a blanket next to my infant daughter, trying to get her attention, while she stared blankly at the light coming through the window behind me. I asked her therapists over and over again, “Is she in there?” Typing this reminds of how low and sad I felt in those days. Did I mention that the child NEVER let me sleep?)

There was so much I did not understand. There was so much to learn. Over the years, I sought out some fantastic teachers of the visually impaired (Annie Hughes, TVI and Director of VIPS-Indiana is my personal hero.) and Dr. Roman-Lantzy in an attempt to educate myself about vision loss and CVI.

What I learned from them made perfect sense, but had not occurred to me before. I was struggling. I wasn’t sleeping. My older daughter was a toddler. Nothing made sense at that time. Basic hygiene was a luxury. Forget living day-to-day, we were living minute-to-minute. The transition into the “new normal” of being a family with a child with multiple disabilities was (and is) chaotic and messy.

Maybe sharing some of the fundamentals will help another mother of another child with CVI get a handle on the situation a little earlier, a little easier.

Maybe developing a common language will help us all go into our IFSP meetings and our IEP meetings with an action plan and the information to back it up.

Here’s where we need to start.

INCIDENTAL LEARNING

Incidental learning is the learning that just happens for a typically sighted person. From the time you open your eyes in the morning to the time you close your eyes at night, you are constantly taking in information about your environment without even trying.

Incidental learning is the information you receive with your eyes without realizing it.

Children with Cortical Visual Impairment are not incidental learners.

Here’s how it was explained to me.

Miss Annie’s Blue Bowl Story
Blindness or significant vision loss has a number of impacts upon a young child’s development.

One of these is the child’s lack of access to incidental learning.
Vision is the “great integrator” of sensory input. No one plans incidental learning, but it goes on every minute that a sighted child is awake. To illustrate this, I often tell parents the “Blue Bowl Story.”
Two babies are in high chairs at one end of the kitchen. One has normal vision, and one is blind. The dad comes into the kitchen and says to his wife, “Hey Honey, where is the blue bowl? I have rented a movie and want to make some popcorn.” The mom replies, “It’s on top of the refrigerator.” So, the dad walks to the refrigerator, he stretches his arm up and reaches on top, he grabs the bowl which is blue, and he walks to the microwave to make the popcorn.
In those few seconds, the child with vision has just had four “incidental” lessons;

1) The word/label “refrigerator” was connected with the object

2) The child is starting to get an idea about the concept of “on top”

3) The child is beginning to understand that even though this bowl is much bigger than his cereal bowl, it is still called a bowl. It must be the “scooped out/can hold things” aspect that makes it a bowl.

4) The child has a blue ball, and this is a blue bowl, so identifying that color as blue has just been reinforced

What did the child without vision get?
He/she heard the same words, but they weren’t connected to any meaning. Sometimes this is called “empty language.” This story illustrates how important it is for children who are blind or have low vision to have real experiences with real objects, so the language they hear isn’t “empty language,” but is tied to meaning.